#maybe ill play new leaf again...maybe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanctuary1988 · 5 months ago

Text

~ Fate's Cruel Hand |9| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: strangers to lovers?, fluff, angst, TENSION (again), general vampire stuff, melancholy, mentions of illness, crying, character death, HEAVY ANGST, feelings of grieving and sorrow, power play, secrets, period typical misogyny, age gap (huge), dark romance, conflicting emotions, feelings of lingering and wishing for someone/something, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 5.1k words

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME & Welcome to chapter 9, darlings! A little treat from me to thank you all for all the love this story I began writing for sheer fun is receiving. Tagging @yumisventingmachine and @my-day6 for their unwavering support for this story. And by @yumisventingmachine wish, I wrote another poem for this chapter as well! Let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

*A/N: There's a poem I wrote for this story that you'll find in this chapter, I do not allow for it to be used in any other media or to be reposted/translated.

In solitude, I find your voice.

A voice that’s already dead.

My light was consumed by darkness within.

A punishment, a curse that I cannot forgive.

The petal has fallen from the rose.

The nightmare awakened at dawn.

An instinct that comes and goes.

An immense power, yet also my one flaw.

I have killed my heart.

Like poison, my words command.

A demon of temptation,

a monster of damnation.

The echoes of your voice are gone,

I can no longer hear you say my name.

A name from a man that is now dead.

Killed by the claws of my own fate.

With a sigh, you closed the book before you put it aside. Each time you read one of the poems of the mysterious book you grew more and more melancholic. For they were beautiful in their own bittersweet nature. You understood that the author had lost someone or something precious to them. And the thought of it made your heartstrings being pulled cruelly.

It was late at night but you couldn’t sleep. The news of your mother’s illness were still too fresh in your mind. Your heart ached at Gwi’s negation for you to go to her side and be there for her when she needed it the most. Defeated, you stood up, taking up the silver chamberstick at your side, you couldn’t help but observe the intricate design of it. The plate was made with cravings and subtle undulations that resembled a round leaf while the central socket was made into a beautiful rose where the candle stood proudly among the darkness.

You left your room in silence, ignoring the whispers of your soul as they spoke to you about sorrow and grief. The shadows around you seemed to swallow down the only beacon of light you had in your life. You entered the throne room only to find Gwi sitting on the magnificent chair. You bowed down at him, not uttering a word before you continued to walk to the other side of the underground palace, where the library, your sanctuary, was.

“It’s late, petal.”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his deep voice resonating across the walls. You gulped, turning slowly to face him while your heart raced within you. His eyes, as dark as the night itself were fixed on you with a mixture of authority and concern in their depths.

“Why are you wandering the halls at this hour?”

You didn’t question why he was up himself. You didn’t question the slight worry that flashed in his eyes, or had it been the candles flickering around him? You didn’t protest about his decision that had crushed your heart.

“I can’t sleep, My Lord. You said I didn’t need permission to visit the library.”

He hated it. He hated how sad your voice sounded. He hated how dull your eyes looked. He hated how cold you had grown to him. And he hated that he had caused all your pain. His expression softened at your words before he stood up and walked towards you, his movements graceful and commanding. Gwi stood in front of you, his presence was both overwhelming but oddly calming as well.

“You have been troubled ever since I refused to let you visit your mother.”

His fingertips lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes that you were so trying to avoid. His touch, that had once sent shivers down your spine, now felt cold against your skin and you missed the warmth that had blossomed between you both before the dreadful letter arrived.

“I know that my decision hurt you, but I will not apologise for it. You belong to me, flower, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“Even if that means breaking my heart?”

Your eyes held a fierceness he had never seen before, the tension rose like a tidal wave. The room spinned with unspoken words that were left to linger in the realm of your thoughts as you lost yourself in his eyes.

“Write to her.”

It sounded more like a command rather than a suggestion. But the softness of his eyes gave him away. His touch left your skin and he straightened back up, towering over your figure with his intimidating gaze.

Gwi avoided your question for he did not want to speak the answer. He looked down at you with a mixture of longing and sorrow that swirled in the depths of his power.

“Words are not compared to one’s presence, My Lord.”

Your answer was said without emotion whatsoever. It lacked your usual happiness, your cheerful tone. Your curiosity. It was flat as it danced through the night.

“But do not deny the comfort they bring. There’s a reason why you are going to the library right now. Write to her, petal. I will see that your letters reach her and I’ll personally hand you her responses. You have my word.”

You looked up at him, searching for any sign that he was deceiving you, that he was making you believe a false truth so that you could move on from your worries and early grief. But you found none. There was not even a spark of lies in his dark eyes. So you sighed to yourself, in either surrender or acceptance you did not know anymore.

You nodded at him, a subtle movement of your head that was enough to calm his heart as it weighed down with guilt for your heartbreak. A heartbreak he knew was necessary. A pain that rooted into the selfish desires of the vampire lord who claimed you as his one and only rose.

You sat in the library, your mind wandering beyond your soul. Gwi watched you as he pretended to read a book, his eyes glancing at you from time to time. Silence drowned the sanctuary of books, the soft scraping of the brush against the paper filled your ears, quieting down the screams from your mind that threatened to pull you down a pit of anxiety.

He watched you write, pour down your heart into the ink and parchment. The rose chamberstick you had carried with yourself rested at the corner of the small desk you were currently working at. The single flame flickered softly and the shadows bathed your beauty in darkness that suited your grey soul.

Time was a foreign concept as you wrote, character after character, emotion after emotion. Word after word until the paper was filled with your handwriting. You sighed, putting the brush aside and waiting for the ink to dry. Your mind was still lost in your own cruel sentiment. Your heart felt heavy within you, was love really such a punishment?

You looked up, your eyes meeting the ones of the vampire lord as he watched you with a certain sorrow in his dark eyes. You could have melted if you weren’t feeling betrayed by him and his decision of keeping you with him.

You broke eye contact, a silent conversation that only you both could understand. A silent testament of pain and regret. A subtle wave of emotions that neither of you were fast enough to grasp. You folded your now dry letter before standing up, your yellow hanbok dress a contrast to your dulled out emotions. With silent steps, you walked to where he sat, his eyes followed your every move until he looked up at you from his sitting position.

“You promised, My Lord. Please make it so that my mother receives this letter.”

Gwi looked at you, his eyes glued to the letter in your hand as you extended your arm to him. Then he looked at your expression, completely ridden of any emotion that had once graced your beauty.

He took the letter from your hold, his fingers brushing yours. With a gentle motion, you bowed down at him before turning around with the intention of returning to the desk and picking up your chamberstick so that you could go back to your room but his hand stopped you as it held yours with a firm yet still gentle grip that sent shivers down your spine. You swallowed, only for then to look back down at your lord and master of the heart.

“You do not love your father at all yet you have an interesting affection for your mother. Why’s that, petal?”

Your hand gripped his subconsciously as the question spoken by his deep voice made you remember things you had long since buried in the depths of your mind.

“Would it make a difference if I told you?”

But he did not answer. Silence was his response. It wouldn’t matter whether you spoke of your burden or not when it came to Gwi’s decision of letting you go and visit your mother. It wouldn’t make a single difference. But his eyes spoke a language of silent compassion that made you sigh to yourself.

“Sit down, flower.”

You obeyed. His murmured order made you act on command as he pulled you softly to the soft cushion next to him and you sat by his side while shadows swallowed the underground palace in its secrets and lies.

“I spent the happiest years of my life with my mother. She taught me many things, even when I was just a mere child, her experience and her love made me survive in the world my father lived in.”

The vampire lord listened to you with his complete attention. His eyes never left your face, even when you broke eye contact and stared into the burning flame of his own chamberstick, lost in your world of memories. He was still holding your hand, and his soft squeeze over your fingers brought you back to reality as you took a deep breath before continuing.

“My father travelled a lot. There were things happening between them, things that I was too young to understand so he took me away from my home when I was twelve. I never saw my mother again.”

“Is that why you hate your father?”

You looked at him as he voiced that question. Your eyes shining with unshed tears at the confession of your soul that you had kept hidden for so many years it felt strange to let go. To speak of the secrecy. Of the past. Of the unchangeable times you had to live through.

“At first, yes. But then I realised he was never a good father to me so I simply did not love him as a daughter is supposed to do.”

It broke his heart to see you so shattered and vulnerable. So sad. For you were his flower, the beacon of light that had suddenly appeared in his life between the darkness he was drowning in. You were his most precious possession, his treasure. And it pained the seemingly heartless vampire to see you suffer like this, more so because your pain rooted to his cruel negation.

“You really miss your mother, don’t you petal?”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you nodded. A lump formed in your throat, killing the words you so wanted to voice out. His other hand lifted in the air, hovering over your cheek as he hesitated for a moment. A second. A second too long before his skin touched yours. Wiping away the tear that slowly rolled down your precious skin.

“Give me a week. Then we’ll go visit her.”

Your eyes lit up at what he said. His words had such power, such command that he was able to either make you sad or give you the world with a couple of sentences. It made your heart skip a beat and your hand squeezed his in gratitude.

“Really? You are not playing with me, are you My Lord?”

Gwi tilted his head to the side, a soft, nearly hidden smirk danced over his lips at your evident change in mood. From sour to sweet. From grey to yellow with just two sentences that left his lips in deep waves of truth.

“I’m not that cruel, sweet flower.”

You smiled. That smile he had secretly missed. That smile that was enough to light up his life. Even when he didn’t voice it out to you. That smile that was your most beautiful jewel.

Ever so subtly you leaned into his touch, his warmth hand cradled your face with such delicacy as if you were going to break.

“Thank you, My Lord. Really, thank you. I can’t express how much this means to me.”

Your words were whispered only for him to hear. The intimacy of the moment grew in your heart like petals that wrapped your soul with feathering touches. His touch lingered on your skin, his hold gentle and almost reverent. He could see the myriad of emotions that swirled in your beautiful (e/c) eyes– the relief, the gratitude and the rekindling of a fragile hope he’d do anything in his power to keep alive.

“Don’t thank me. Just because you serve me doesn’t mean I want to see you sad. Your tears are like poison, flower. They kill the heart of the poet ever so slowly.”

Your heart skipped a beat, losing yourself in his eyes that held so many secrets and so many emotions you couldn’t decipher. So many things were left unsaid. So many things said in silent understanding.

Gwi noticed your change in mood in the next couple of days. You weren’t back to your usual self but his promise gave you hope. Gave you something to hold onto. He watched you with warmer eyes as you poured down his evening tea. The tension as palpable as the robe he subtly fisted as your addictive scent invaded his senses.

“We are leaving tomorrow, petal. Have you packed already?”

His dark murmur made you lift your gaze from the tea you were making, there was a delicate spark in your eyes that had turned emotionless. Grey in its nature.

“Yes, My Lord. I have everything I may need.”

He hummed softly, a dark sound of acknowledgement that made you feel bothered inside at the deepness of it. You handed him his tea and he took a sip, the sweet taste making him sigh softly.

“My tea has turned sweet ever since you came into my life, petal of mine.”

You looked up, surprised at his sudden words that left you both, yearning for more and scared of their true meaning. A meaning you were starting to understand as the silence stretched on between you both. Gwi took another sip before his eyes locked with yours and your heart skipped a beat the moment you met his intense gaze.

“I’m not talking about tea.”

“I know, My Lord.”

He smirked against the cup, sipping the last bit of the sweet beverage as your cheeks dusted in pink at his words and the confirmation you blurted out about your understanding. You didn’t dare say another word because you knew something stupid would be spoken once more. And the vampire lord seemed amused at your flustered state that you could have sworn you heard him chuckle.

“Go and rest, my sweet flower. You’ll need your strength for our journey, we’ll leave at nightfall.”

You bowed down, your eyes meeting his for a split second before you turned around, walking down the steps that led to his throne and across the grand room. Your back towards him as you made your way back to your room.

Gwi watched you go as he held the empty cup of tea in his large hand. The sweet taste lingered on his tongue as he remembered your warm presence. Never has his tea been so sweet. But when he said he wasn’t talking about the tea, he meant it. For the vampire lord referred to his life. A life tainted with power and immortality. Master of the night. Owner of the Crown. Yet drowning in the shadows of his past choices. Darkness was bitter. But your light had sweetened his life in a way he never thought it to be possible. He never allowed it to exist before. But it felt right to have you so close. Almost as if your fates were tangled before he had seen you that day in the gardens. The day he claimed you as his flower among a garden of thorns.

Back in your room, you prepared yourself to sleep, changing your beautiful dress to a comfortable nightgown before you lay in your bedding. A sigh left your lips as you got comfortable, sleep quickly claimed you, stopping the racing thoughts in your mind about your journey tomorrow at dusk.

You were already asleep when Gwi entered your bedroom. His silent steps carried his looming figure across the room before he stood next to you, his eyes, tainted with crimson desire, watched you sleep ever so peacefully. He held your rose-like chamberstick and he couldn’t help but think how it could only belong to you. His flower. His sweet flower. The vampire lord allowed himself that moment of admiration. That single fragment of time of complete lust over your innocent soul, mesmerised by your beauty and enhanced by the nature of your heart.

He returned you the chamberstick before he left you alone as you lived in the land of dreams during his domain at night. The candle extinguished not long after that, leaving you in the darkness of the room while thoughts of you pierced Gwi’s mind without mercy at all.

You waited anxiously for dusk to settle. You sat in a bench at the gardens, the last rays of sun kissed your skin and Gwi couldn’t help but admire your golden beauty from the shadows of his underground palace. You were reading something, he couldn’t tell exactly what it was. The book seemed worn out by time and you were so engrossed in it he almost left you be as you read all by yourself in the last and gentle rays of sun.

But when the sky began darkening you closed the book and stood up, walking back to the underground palace with hurried steps. You walked through the halls, the torches illuminating your beauty as you made your way through the place you now called your home.

Gwi was not in the throne room so you walked directly to your room with haste; you put the book aside before putting on your long cloak that would protect you from the chilly breeze at night. You fixed your hair, arranging your preferred hairpin, the one Gwi gave you, before you walked back to the throne room only to see the vampire lord walking down the hallway opposite from you, his robes moving gracefully with each step he took.

You bowed down at him, approaching him with less quick steps. His eyes never left your figure, feeling how his heart skipped a beat upon seeing you wearing your red hairpin. His gift. His claim over his flower.

“My Lord.”

You greeted, your voice soft and filled with emotions he wasn’t quick enough to grasp as they passed over your eyes in a split second. A second too fast.

“Are you ready, petal?”

You nodded, a small smile dancing over your lips as you both left the underground palace in silent harmony. Gwi watched you from the corner of his eye, how you took two steps while he took one, how you bit nervously at your lower lip, either in desperation or anxiety he couldn’t tell. But despite all that, you were as beautiful as ever. With your dark cloak trailing behind you and the hairpin catching the torches’ light, you appeared next to him as an angel in disguise. Happy after his orders, feeling safe knowing that he was going with you on the long journey back to a place you hadn’t been in years. Back to a place you once called your home.

The sun no longer burned his skin as he stepped outside of the underground palace, the last rays of sun hid behind the mountains and the stars began painting the darkening sky instead. His kingdom began. For he was master of the night. And you, his precious flower, stood next to him.

“Your things are already loaded in the carriage, flower. We’ll arrive tomorrow at night time.”

You stopped walking and he subconsciously mirrored your actions. Your eyes, wide and happy, met his stoic features that softened upon gazing down at you.

“Thank you, My Lord.”

You were looking at him with so much tenderness his heart felt tight in his chest. Decades of living in eternal power only to succumb to you, a beautiful mortal woman that mesmerised a heart he thought to be death, frozen by time and fate.

He sent you a soft smile. Small and rare in his usually dark beauty. The chilly air made your hair fly in delicate strands, you never tied it up. Not like the other women in the palace, you always opted for a half updo, adorning it with beautiful hair pins and jewellery that only made you look more enchanting in his eyes. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he was so mesmerised by you, it was a simple thing to do but you, despite your high status in society, did not abide by its rules.

You bowed to him and only him. And with the small gesture of leaving your hair down, you were different. Just like him. Worthy of your place at his side. As his flower. As his jewel.

His hand grabbed yours, the contact made your breath hitch as your heart skipped a beat. A shiver ran down your spine and you nearly shuddered at the sudden contact. He pulled you with him wordlessly. You were never going to admit it, at least not for now but you loved the feeling of his larger hand around yours. Unknowingly to you, Gwi thought the same thing as he led you through the gardens and to where the carriage was waiting to take you both to your home.

The night was peaceful. There was still some light being reflected from the last rays of the sun and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the journey and to be with your mother. You tried to not think too much of the outcome of your visit but the news of her grave illness made your heart sink deeper within your soul every time you thought about it. However, Gwi’s presence next to you grounded your racing thoughts and anxious mind. He remained by your side like a rock to your thunderous life and subconsciously, you squeezed his hand a little bit tighter with that thought.

“My Lord! My Lady!”

A sudden voice interrupted your peace. You tensed ever so subtly but Gwi sensed your change in mood. How the quiet night was shattered as he turned around and you did the same only to see a man walking with hurried steps towards you both.

You swallowed, his hand squeezed yours as the man finally stood in front of you as he panted softly.

“Forgive me, My Lord, but I bring important news.”

“Speak.”

Gwi commanded, his voice lacking the warmth to which he spoke to you and you shivered at the detached sound that came past his lips. The word was spoken so harshly it made you flinch.

“I bring news about your mother, Lady (y/n).”

Your breath hitched in your throat yet you so desperately gripped onto hope. A spark that had bloomed in your soul over the past week. The last straw that kept your heart alive.

“Is she alright? Did she receive my letters?”

You asked, your voice sounded curious above everything else. You have written to your mother for the last week every day. Gwi had promised to send your letters and you trusted in his word. You only hoped this man before you was here to bring you her sweet responses.

“My Lady… your mother passed away last night. My condolences.”

The man bowed down at you in respect. Your heart stopped and your hand went limp in Gwi’s hold. You took a step forward, silently pleading to the messenger to tell you it was false. That your mother was fine. That she was better. That she had written back to you.

“No, it can’t be.”

Your broken whispers tore at the vampire’s heart. Tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. It could be real. It couldn’t. You were just going to visit her. You were going to spend the last moments with her. A tightness filled your chest just as a lump began forming in your throat.

“Forgive me, My Lady.”

The pain numbed you. It crashed over you like tidal waves; you weren’t even able to cry despite the need to scream out your agony. You simply turned around without a word.

“Flower, wait.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t hear him over the sudden ringing in your ears that took hold of you. You didn’t hear Gwi’s voice inside the turmoil of your heart. You didn’t hear anything. Your mind was empty. Blank of any thought. He watched you walk away with a sorrowful expression, your steps were defeated and agonising in a pain he very much understood as well.

“Her Ladyship left a letter, My Lord. For Lady (y/n).”

Gwi turned to look back down at the messenger with silent urgency, his mind screaming at him to go back to you. To comfort you. As a guilt he had never felt before gnawed at his heart. A heart he once claimed to be dead. The vampire lord snatched the letter from the messenger’s hold before he was walking back to the underground palace, his steps in a hurry as he grieved with you.

It wasn’t until you arrived at your room that you finally crumbled. Falling to your knees as a heartbreaking sob escaped your lips. The tears rolled down your cheeks like endless rivers of pain you could no longer contain and you cried. You grieved. You screamed. You died as well as the hope in your heart, extinguishing like a flame at night. Drowning in sorrow as your sobs filled the once happy room.

The petals from the cherry blossom fell over you like a constant reminder of how life goes on. How time will never stop. And the tears came harder, like arrows that pierced your heart; merciless in their nature and poisonous in the darkness that was your pain.

Your heart broke, your chest hurt. How come grief could hurt so much? How could you endure such an amount of cruel pain? How were you meant to go on? There were so many things left unsaid, so many emotions that lingered in the air. So much time that was stolen by fate’s cruel hand.

A sudden presence made you look up, the tears did not stop falling. Gwi knelt next to you, his eyes mirroring your sorrow as your lip trembled. You felt crushed, betrayed. You felt dead.

“She’s gone.”

His hand cradled your cheek with a tenderness that made more tears spill from your beautiful eyes. Your whisper held so much pain within the words that it felt as if you had made him swallow poison coming from the roots of your own thorns.

“I know, petal. I know.”

Your eyes closed as you welcomed the pain as if it had always existed. You felt robbed by fate, stolen of memories you were meant to have. And the next second, he embraced you. Pressing you against his chest and you clung to his robes in desperation. He shushed you, his big hand cradling the back of your head as you mourned for your mother, for a life you were robbed of, for the opportunity of seeing her again and the memories that were now alive only in your mind.

Every sob and cry that escaped your lips pained him profusely. Never in his astonishingly long life had Gwi ever felt such pain. Such worry over a mortal human before. Making your pain his own. Your sadness was his sadness. And your grief was his to embrace as well.

He didn’t say anything. There were no words that could offer you even an ounce of comfort. So he just held you. He pressed you against him, making your sorrow melt his frozen heart. You buried your face in his chest, seeking comfort in his embrace as his arms grounded your screaming and guilty mind. Your broken heart. Your dead touch. He grounded you. He offered you comfort. Perhaps there were no words that could ease your pain but his presence was enough.

If anyone had seen the mighty vampire lord embracing you in your grief they would have fainted from the shock. Because after decades of suppressing his emotions and hiding behind his cold facade, he showed sparks of life in his broken soul. But that revelation was only for your eyes to feel and for your hands to touch. It was you who wrapped his heart in your petals of love. It was you who revived his dead soul.

And even in your heartbroken state, it was him whom you clung to. Him whose comfort was enough to keep you in this headspace. You fisted his robes, crying and whimpering as the pain only intensified.

“It’s okay. Just cry, my flower. Cry, it’s alright.”

And you did that. You held onto his words. You allowed your sadness to spill in the form of your pearls of pain. You cried. You cried until there were no tears to spill. You cried until your soul was empty and only Gwi held you through the darkness that fell upon you by fate’s cruel hand.

In solitude, I find your voice.

A voice that’s already dead.

My light was consumed by darkness within.

A punishment, a curse that I cannot forgive.

The petal has fallen from the rose.

The nightmare awakened at dawn.

An instinct that comes and goes.

An immense power, yet also my one flaw.

I have killed my heart.

Like poison, my words command.

A demon of temptation,

a monster of damnation.

The echoes of your voice are gone,

I can no longer hear you say my name.

A name from a man that is now dead.

Killed by the claws of my own fate.

May/28/2024

A/N: Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

#sanctuary1988 #lee soo hyuk #kdrama #kdrama series #the scholar who walks the night #gwi #kactor #gwi x reader fluff #gwi x reader #gwi x reader angst #scholar who walks the night #lee soo hyuk characters #vampire #korean drama #korean actor #les pétals d'amour #vampire gwi

18 notes · View notes

thementalshawty · 7 months ago

Text

Weekly & Monthly Report!

So I realize that most people didn’t really like the weekly readings and updates so I decided for the ones that do to be quick about it, I shall give a little bullet point reading about certain events that can and may happen this week for those in the collective I shall also do a little sneak peek of this month! It’s a new month my patreon members try to get your questions into me this week! Love ya & if you want the full read and details join my madhouse patreon! Link is below.

For some of you there’s going to be some kind of situation or relationship with some man that’ll be important this week, whether it be your sibling, friend, boss, Co-Worker, SO, etc. some kind of important dealing with this male may or shall take place this week.

This week overall will be filled with peace and harmony I’m seeing lots of the collective feeling relieved or lighthearted and very flowy this week, very go with the flow type of energy this week for the collective yasss. Wind chimes may be a sign of importance this week, maybe some will hear the rest may see, some both I’m hearing.

Some of you will be tempted to lower your standards to make things easier or to accept less than you deserve this week and I’m seeing your guides saying AHT AHT AHT! Let’s not do that! DO NOT SETTLE FOR SHIT THIS WEEK! Only what you want and deserve only! Seeing a flag may be of importance maybe lowering your flag I’m seeing queer flags so my 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️ ⚧️ including myself, LETS NOT LOWER OUR STANDARDS FOR NOBODY!

I’m seeing four leaf clovers 🍀! Good luck and great fortune for the collective this week, some money big or small is coming in for you guys Yass get that mfcn bag Hunny 💋!

Your health is something you guys need to pay attention to this week, be extra cautious some of you may be getting into accidents. Getting sick, feeling down, just be mindful and take care this week. Maybe some of you guys are getting over an illness this week too!

Spiritual love is entering, I’m hearing for some it’s romantic and for others it’s platonic. You’ll feel so connected with this person, like they just get you through and through, this is a soulmate! So gear up, it can even mean spiritual awareness and awakening within your own selves! Giving that spiritual love to yourself.

Something that was done in the past is what will financially come to you this week, idk how it’ll play out for the entire collective, but everyone seems to be having some mula coming in hunny yassssssss 👏🏽

Now it’s time for your monthly energy

Funny this month there’s going to be some kind of dealing or something with a woman with dark hair, eyes, vibe or complexion this month for some of you, I’m not sure if it’s a healthy person, if they’re not all i do know is that some of you will be experiencing the dark vibes.

There will be a loss, and there’ll be some sorrow over it but I’m hearing it’s for the best even tho ain’t nobody wanna be hearing that shit in the moment of thag loss but I’m seeing that there is something that’s ending this month for the collective and I’m seeing some sadness over it. A breakup for some I’m hearing.

Someone will be testing your gangsta this month, someone will be trying to oppose you, and make you back down but I’m seeing that your guides want you to show strength and boldness don’t back down from anyone this month.

For some there’ll be spiritual growth and increase for others its material wealth increase, but again INCREASE this month!

Whatever you’re going through this month, if you persevere you will overcome whatever issues that will come your way this month cos like every month there’s lesson and shit needs to be done in order for you to advance. Just keep swimming I heard.

There’s a rat 🐀 amongst you guys and they’re wishing bad & working against you behind your bacc like always be cautious, move in silence, & protect your energy.

This month you’ll be doing something risky or be faced with a risky move that’ll require you to make a decision and take a chance I’m not the type to tell you guys what to do just trust yourselves!

That is all folks again if you want the full extended report the link to my patreon is here

HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT RESONATED & SOME MO SHIT 😂 LOVE YOU GUYS HAPPY APRIL AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!

#tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot community #psychic #tarot cards #free tarot reading #tarot witch #gothic #nu goth #free tarot #weekly reading #monthly reading #patreon #SoundCloud

12 notes · View notes

dustedmagazine · 6 months ago

Text

Cara Beth Satalino — Little Green (Worried Songs)

Photo by Justin Flythe

Turning into an adult has never been easy, but the people who progressed from late teens and 20s into mid-life over the last couple of years have had an especially rough go of it, given the pandemic, the lockdown and the oncoming climate apocalypse. Cara Beth Satalino, the fresh-voiced center of country-folk Outer Spaces, was among this unlucky cohort. One day she was carefree, singing her songs in bars and small clubs, the next she found herself diagnosed with chronic illness, isolated in New Jersey and unexpectedly pregnant.

The title track of this first solo album tracks that series of events in luminous folk style, a fragile voice pushing up through reverb shrouded guitar. “I used to be puppy dog, I used to be a little green, little leaf unfolding, reaching out for anything at all,” croons Satalino in “Little Green,” the brief song that is, maybe, the key to the whole album. “I used to play on my guitar, up in there at the bar, I used to sing a yearning song, a little leaf unfolding, little leaf unfolding.” The “used to” part is heartbreaking, but the song suggests a path out, the possibility of tending a garden where other leaves may eventually unfold. Satalino sings in a tender but resolute way, making her peace with the new normal.

These songs have a fresh-scrubbed authenticity, centered on Satalino’s raspy soprano and forthright language, though they often swell, mid-cut, into multi-voiced, descanting fullness. “Time,” for instance, begin in simplicity, its jangling guitar paced by kick drum, a pedal steel curving up through the verse. Satalino’s singing is straightforward, rich but unornamented, until it blossoms in dizzying harmonies and counterpoints, suddenly overwhelming.

Satalino’s tunes range in tone from jangling folk pop to near country, think Waxahatchee but not as southern. She sings about Volvos station wagons, not pick-up trucks. A few, like “Daylight Savings Time,” feature wavery keyboard or maybe recorder melodies that shade them subtly into 1960s folk territory. Yet though the accompaniment can be flowery, the words are precise and workmanlike. Consider this, from “Daylight Savings Time”— “Today I woke up feeling rested/with an hour to spare/free time in my pocket/time that was not there yesterday/it’s on the front page/it’s the good news we never gave/one solitary hour feels like money to be spent.”

Though Little Green is a solo album, Satalino is by no means alone. Her partner in Outer Spaces, Chester Gwazda, is a big presence, playing bass and keyboards on most tracks, and guitar and drums on a couple. Angie Boylan, who has toured with Sleater-Kinney and Maria Paternoster, picks up the rest of the drumming duties, while Dan Kassel adds cello. Nicholas Metz is especially effective on pedal steel, nudging cuts like “Outlaw” into rich twanging country. The arrangements never overwhelm. Satalino’s voice and stories remain the focus. But they do expand and enliven her songs, and you can hear a certain joy in the musicians’ ability to play together again after a period of separation.

Despite the troubles that surround it, this isn’t a sad album at all. It finds ways to celebrate the good parts of the last few years, as in “The Great Liberator.” Sings Satalino, “Walked down to the farm to watch the eagles catch the sun, it doesn’t seem like much but it’s a new brand of fun.” Like Little Green.

Jennifer Kelly

#cara beth satalino #little green #worried songs #jennifer kelly #albumreview #dusted magazine #folk #country #outer spaces

3 notes · View notes

philzokman · 2 years ago

Note

help im leaving tomorrow for an 8 hour plane ride and i need fic recs

I AM SO GLAD U ASKED FJWKDHSJS

okay okay so these are gonna be a mix of skk and sskk but i hope u enjoy :D

1. everything or nothing by well that happened - skk

“College AU where Chuuya finds out that the boy he drunkenly made out with the night of orientation is his new roommate. His arrogant, smug, very straight roommate. And the boys are each convinced the other is trying to ruin their life by making them go absolutely insane.”

i think the most kudosed skk fic on ao3 so not very. underground indie. JDHSJ the writing style isn’t my favourite but the plot is really good and the characterisation. oh my ever loving fuck THE CHARACTERISATION!!! strong nsfw that i’m like 99% sure is quite crucial to the plot though so i’d maybe skip this if ur not comfortable with that!! (the first 6 ish chapters should be mainly fine though for that if ur just wanting smn small and funny)

2. waiting room by srxlee - sskk

“In which the smell of antiseptic becomes familiar, and the feeling doesn't hurt like it used to, yet it aches. Where Ryuunosuke battles his habit of loving that which is fleeting. And now his hand, calloused and bruised, just can’t seem to let go.”

HEKANDHWKS i would die for this fic. it’s absolutely amazingly written like genuinely there are like 6 chapters where my mouth was agape the whole time purely bc of the writing style. the plot is really interesting, and the author deals with illness very very well. it DOES have a happy ending im so proud to announce and it’s overall very very sweet and i love it please read it i beg KDHSJ

3. learn to love by thebackwardsstep - skk

“Dazai pissed in a stranger's car- because screw the bourgeoisie- and now he has a sugar daddy. What the fuck.”

i physically could not tell u a thing about this fic, i read it when i was suffering with the flu BUT from what i do remember it was surprisingly sweet and the main ending conflict is resolved by a bird so JDHAKSH also also also in spite of its name it only has like 2 nsfw scenes in it which are VERY easily skippable and also a scene where dazai dresses up as a girl and they go to a ball :D

4. debatable society by chlovrs - sskk

“Atsushi has always struggled with self-confidence so to boost him up, his friend Dazai convinces him to join their University debate society. It works for a little bit, he makes some friends and is actually able to like, ya know...join in on conversations without shaking like a leaf. But then they start competing with the students from their neighboring University and of course, Akutagawa, the one who is beauty incarnated just loves to fucking argue.”

THIS IS SO CUTE. it’s been a while since i’ve read it but from what i can remember the plot is rlly cute, and sskk’s dynamic is really sweet. the author is also the absolute sweetest person ever and i highly highly recommend leaving a comment or two bc they’re genuinely soso sweet and Will respond KDHAKSH (there IS one nsfw scene but again, very easy to skip and doesn’t affect the plot by any means)

5. thé art of precious scars by run_mello - skk

“Role reversal AU where Dazai is in the Port Mafia and Chuuya is in the Armed Detective Agency.

---

When a famous painting goes missing from the Mori Art Museum, the ADA jumps in to help investigate the case. So Dazai and Chuuya go on a mission together, solve the mystery together, fight enemies together... and somewhere along the line, they fall in love.”

holy ever loving FUCK THIS FIC IS AMAZING. i remember the first thought i had while reading it was “this authors read the irl authors books.” LIKE IT SHOWS SO MCUHF WJDKDH i think my favourite example of this was in i think the first or second chapter when dazai plays the synonym/antonym game from no longer human it’s genuinely really really sick. as well as that the author will occasionally sprinkle in quotes from books and poems and it’s just. very very very cool. the characterisation is phenomenal its so well written very highly recommend !!!

6. chuuya is red hot and dazai is so not by icedlightroast - skk

“Dazai couldn't wrap his brain around it. How could the student population think that Chuuya Nakahara was more attractive than him? And, alright, sure, maybe professors shouldn't get caught up in petty drama. But to Dazai, this wasn't just drama. This was war. A war in which he was not going to lose.”

this made me giggle an abnormal amount. KDHAJS this fic had me kicking my feet back and forth and twirling my hair oml it’s soso cute VERY short but very very cute

BAR LIKE 30 FICS THATS MY REC LIST FJSKS !! hope u enjoyed and have fun on ur trip !!!! :D

23 notes · View notes

sea-moon-star · 1 year ago

Text

Layover || KTH/Conrad Fisher

Pairing: Conrad Fisher x Belly Conklin / Kim Taehyung x f.reader

Genre: Angst!! Ex!Tae (spoilers for S2 of The Summer I Turned Pretty)

WC: 1.5k (total)

Summary: A story of exes who wish they could go back & do things differently. All 5 songs of Layover are the set up for this fic. A messy love triangle between two brothers & their closest friend, full of pining, yearning & nostalgia.

A/N: This can be a stand alone fic for Tae as well as for Bonrad stans, you don't have to know both to enjoy it. I just happen to be Tae biased & Team Conrad so I thought I'd put 2+2 together for double the magic!! Jenny Han & BTS, Korea's treasures indeed. 🌊🌙⭐️

---------------------------------------------

Her POV- She realizes she’s losing him, some time before her prom

Song- Blue by V (Layover)

"What if I show you

And make it all new

Green, yellow, red, blue

Whatever seems good to you

Everyone's looking at you

But, baby, you're all blue, blue"

I would’ve done anything to make him happy, to make that smile of his reach his eyes, to catch that glint of sparkle in his gaze, to make his words & actions feel alive, but the man in front of me was only a shell of the boy I’d fallen in love with as a kid. His mother's illness was coming fast at us, in trying to grasp the reality of losing her, I didn’t realize I was already losing him as well. We sat there discussing whether his mom’s medications were working, the green yellow red blue pills that she popped like skittles in order to stay alive, but I wished I’d known that she wasn’t the only one who needed them, he did too. The only difference was that while His mom's sickness was visible for the world to see, his anxiety & depression were invisible demons eating him up from the inside. As I pulled him in for a hug from over the counter top in the kitchen, I wanted to close in on him & let all his worries about his mom’s health wash over onto me, but instead he turned inwards, letting the waves sink him deeper into the blues.

-x-

Her POV- Her reminiscing after prom & in denial about their break up

Song- Slow Dancing by V (Layover)

"Stay with me 'til the end of the day

Maybe we could be slow dancing

Until the morning

We could be romancing

The night away"

My favorite game was that of, “what ifs”. Whenever things didn’t go my way, I used to retreat into my world my imagination, a place where things were in my control. I let my subconscious play out the most surreal scenarios & flip them around in order to help me cope with them. A failed exam paper, a lost volleyball match, a fight with my best friend, my parent’s divorce, anything could be solved with a “what if”. One night, I went to bed, dreaming of a world where, he & I had the prom I’d always wanted. One where he didn’t forget the corsage, he smiled for the photos we clicked, we were the center of attention at prom, he twirled me around the room, we slow danced till the morning, went on to romance in a hotel room, away from the others, in our own bubble, taking our relationship to the next level that night. And we did, but not in the way I’d hoped. All it took was the shrill alarm tone on my phone to remind me of that, of the fact that dreams no matter how good, don’t come true.

-x-

His POV – At the beach after the party talking about their break up

Song- Rainy Days by V (Layover)

Remember how I used to make you laugh the most

I have no right to say this, but

Let me make up for all the time we lost

We can start again, open all the doors

Don't tell me it's over, we can start it over

You're my four-leaf clover

Yeah, I can feel your touch, I remember your kiss

Those hurtful words, and I miss you

My own hurtful words & actions came haunting back when I stood there in front of her at the beach.

Him- “I’m not leaving you, Belly.”

Her- “But you already did.”

Her words cut me like a knife, because even though I knew she was hurting & drunk, this was uncalled for. I tried to tell myself it was her drunk self speaking but even then, it didn’t lessen the sting I felt. If there was one thing I knew- I’d never stopped loving her, I’d not gone a minute without missing her. So what did she mean when she said that? Didn’t she know how much she meant to me? How could she have not seen it? I knew I’d messed up big time, I’d already caused her pain that I couldn’t take back no matter how much I tried. But I had changed since our break up, I knew I was able to accept & apologize for what I’d done wrong. But through it all, I never once intended to give up on us, didn’t she know that? How could she not? And if she didn’t, then where do we even go from here?

Her- “I thought we loved each other.”

Him- “We did.”

Instead of saying what I wanted, I said what the moment called for. But what I wanted to do was tell her the contrary. I wished I could tell her that I still loved her, that I still wanted to fight for her, that I remembered our first kiss on this very beach, that I wanted to make up for all the time we’d lost, to start again & do better this time. But I could see it on her face, in the tears streaming down her cheeks that maybe, just maybe I was too late in telling her that I still wanted us to find our way back to each other.

-x-

His POV – After he says goodbye to her at the motel once she kisses his brother

Song- Love Me Again by V (Layover)

Said I’m alright, said I’ll be fine

I’m sorry, they’re all lies

Please don't leave

Please don't go, so far away

I wish you would love me again

No, I don't want nobody else

I barely made it out the door, before my body got the better of me & I sank to the floor of the motel we were at at. I was painfully aware that I was only few feet away from the room but I couldn’t control it anymore. I broke down, as I reminisced over the lies I’d so smoothly said, only a few moments before- telling her that we were friends, telling my brother & her that I’d see them over 4th July like nothing had changed, pretending that I was alright with them dating, when in fact seeing them together felt like an anchor weighing me down, threatening to bury me alive. It felt like death by a thousand cuts, knowing that we were the ones who were supposed to end up together. I wish I could’ve told her not to leave, I wish I could’ve told her that I wanted her & no one else, but I cared about both of them too much to stand in the way of their happiness- even if it meant strangling my own happiness, in the same way that my anxiety was threatening to choke me in this moment- in a mix of tears & breathlessness.

-x-

His POV - Him being heart broken at uni after his ex & his brother start dating

Song- For Us by V (Layover)

Now I’m in California, I’m still waiting for ya

Will you change your mind?

I would give it all up for us

I wish I could stay with you

I had the life I’d always dreamt of, I was finally at Stanford University. Despite all the obstacles, all the pressure my dad put on me, quitting sports, my mom’s cancer returning, taking pre-med because of her, continuing to use my work as a way to channel my grief over my mom passing away. Everthing had amounted to this moment. All those panic attacks & anxiety withstanding, I had made it here where I was at the top of my classes, in the college I wanted to study at. But I was right where she’d left me, on the campus of Brown University, watching the thrill of an exam gone well & the anticipation of telling her that I wanted to give us another shot, die in my throat as I saw her fiercely kissing my brother unabashedly on my college campus, against my car, while wearing a hoodie that still held my scent. I felt my chest hurt, it physically pained me as I clenched my teeth & took a breath in, forcing myself to breathe again because for a second, it was like my body had forgotten how to. And now here I was, in California, still waiting for her with the same ache in my chest, it was dull but never truly gone. Everything here was perfect- the weather was beautiful, profs were invested, facilities were top notch, the surf at the coast was amazing but SHE wasn’t there. I’d move to our home in Cousins in a heartbeat for her, give it all up for us. I wish I could stay with her, I wish I could give her the moon, stars & infinity.

THE END. 🌊🌙⭐️

#the summer i turned pretty #team conrad #belly x conrad #conrad fisher #tsitp conrad #tsitp s2 #layover #slow dancing #rainy day #for us #love me again #blue #layover by v #yeontan #jenny han #Spotify

2 notes · View notes

queenferretofthewoods · 1 year ago

Text

The old bridge

There I was, leafs falling around me, as the trees grew new scars over the old ones and their beautiful colors surrounded me. The town wasn't very noisy today, as if everyone just took a breath to admire this season as I did, and there it was the bridge over the stream, I remember when I used to made my way back to the burrow as a child, it used to be a landmark for me as it connected me to this town and the nature of the forest, old people told stories of child's that fell off and the stream took them "don't play around the old bridge, or you slip, and the stream may seem calm, but there are days when it only knows rage" they said, there used to be an old man living under the bridge if I remember correctly. The old folk referred to him as the "old thriller" ones say he used to live up the stream and his house got carried away during a landslide, others that he was an ex-convict that just didn't know better than being an outcast.

I remember one afternoon, he was washing his clothes when all of a sudden a fish bite his sock and almost took it from him, "Ha! Well ill be damned, god has given me a little more hope to continue" he said with a smug in his face, he was joyful in his situation, perhaps he liked that way? Or was it just the moment? After that he looked at me and his smile banished, and he just grabbed his stuff, that made me felt bad did the attention scared him?, after that day I told my mom to pack me and extra egg sandwich for school, "oh, is it for a friend, or you are just that hungry?", I just play it off and said "yeaaah I'm just sharing with Mercy I told her that your eggs sandwiches are the best", and so in my way to school I went to see the old man, see him all alone in the outside made me feel bad for him, maybe it was to apologize for yesterday, at first I was hesitant, but I already made my way down, and so I continued, he was there singing a song, one that talked about the hardship of the workers one that praised the group work and that damned the liars and the snitches, and then he stopped and look at me "what in the... are you lost kid?...this is a dangerous place to be you know" dangerous? This town has never seen danger, what could an old man know about it, or was he referring to himself? I just shook the thoughts away and pull out the sandwich, and timidly I said "T-this is f-for you" I smiled softly, and he looked at me and grumped a little. "Humph! Well... Thank you child, this is very kind" he took the sandwich and promptly started to eat it and so did I, we sat in silence for a bit he still hummed that melody and then "So child is this what are you going to do? Sit with the Old thriller? Hum, most children just fear me ya know" he said with a serious tone and his face with a frown in his face, "Well I'm just curious I guess, maybe the others think bad of you, but maybe it is because they don't try to know you" I said almost breaking my voice of the nerves, but his face now had a sense of surprise as if he wasn't expecting that he looked at the stream for a little and contemplated my words, and with a smile subtle but visible he said "Hehe you know what? You are the first one to speak with me instead of just you know" he took a breath "My name is Bernard" he really looked like a Bernard, "I'm Shayan, nice to meet you Bernard" I said with a dorky smile, "ahah well Shayan, I think is time you go I suppose your family will be worry if you don't go with them so go child and be safe" I nodded and promptly carried on with my day.

Now that I see the old bridge again I remembered how I once made someone's day with kindness, but now this place was mostly abandoned, "a walk down memory lane won't hurt me right" I thought to my self and made my way under the bridge and reminiscence about my childhood.

Like the time my dad took me with my sister to clear the rubbish that people throw, he liked a lot to postulate for community work, as he didn't have a job, I guess he never wanted to spend time in a workplace or an office away from us, he used to tell us that "with hard work comes, being far from those who you love", thous my mom never liked it him being unemployed, but she was in love with the caring husband he was. And so down the stream we went, my dad, sister and a couple of church volunteers were there, as well as Bernard, and we picked the rubbish, my sister and I mostly played with the mud, and filled our bags with cans, bottles, I even found an old magazine with ladies! But my dad quickly took it from us, he said "oh you little ladies are too young to see this, but I'm sure the old man will like thi…" but Bernard interrupted "nah keep it to yourself pal, and I'm not that old yet" he said with a smile on his face "Hiiiiii Bernard" I said with a grin in my face, my dad was confused for a second and then looked at Bernard and said "Oh so that's your name? Sorry for you know the old man thing, but how does she know you" with a concerned expression my dad just looked at him, but Bernard was calm about it and simply said "Well your child was a little curious about it and ask for it one morning as I was cleaning my beard" and with that my dad nodded and smiled, but I knew what was going to happen after we left the stream We picked the stuff and walked our way back home and as we walked he said "you know what we have told you about talking to strangers, right?" I nodded and said "but he seemed lonely, and all the people calling him old thriller i thoug…" my dad just cut me off "I'm not mad, but next time be careful okay? But I'm glad that you are kind with other people, but you don't know if others will be kind to you the same way" I nodded, and we continued our way, luckily dad didn't tell mom about it, but she would learn one day.

As I approached the bridge I could see that it was... empty, like if the stream had washed away foundations of the bridge and cleared what once was Bernard home, but what gives "some stuff aren't meant to stay I guess" I said. On my way up I saw that the town center was full of people, I had daydreamed enough that it was almost night, and so I went there, looking store after store, not that I had that much money but still, I could get a little something, couldn't I? I saw a crafts store with a ton of ceramic and clay figurines, a supply store with an endless supply of foods and granola bars, and in the last one, the book and music store I browse many albums, most of them where old 2000’s age music and the books were many all of them well-loved and taken care of, and as I was browsing a voice, a deep and old voice, one with a warm to it, and a kindness that you only hear on an old friend, greeted me "Hi welcome to Strings Study, how can I help you?" I turned around to a friendly face, a white beard trimmed but puffy and a pair of eyes that glimmered as they open widely, a face with many wrinkles each telling me how wise this man is, and with smile I greeted a friend that I hadn't seen in years, an old friend whom I had so many memories, like the time I almost tripped on the stream, and he was there to give me hand, or the time a group of kids were picking on me, and he stood up for me, and the time I almost committed the worst mistake, and he shared his wisdom and advice in life "love hurts, but I would hurt more to see at a face and a name of those who raised you every time with distraint and hate, they don't do this to antagonize your existence they do it to keep you safe".

And so my day had ended knowing an old friend was still well and doing just fine "maybe should come around more often" I smiled and carried on with my way

#Creative writting #writing #Stories of the woods

0 notes

ailendolin · 2 years ago

Note

so dramatic: Humphrey

Hi anon! Sorry you had to wait so long for your ficlet but here it is! I hope you enjoy it. 💙 It was written pre-series 4 so there are no spoilers for the new series in it.

Next up:

dreamer: [character] talks in their sleep. - Kitty

vacancy: [character] forgets where they are. - Mary

Please be okay: [Fanny] isn’t feeling well, causing them to act differently.

Careful care: it’s hard for [Thomas] to accept help. [Francis] knows which care methods are “acceptable”.

Ask Games are here & here. Filled prompts are here & here on AO3.

________

The Cough so dramatic: [Humphrey] complains about their cold.

“I hate this.”

Robin nearly laughed at the petulant tone, not to mention the rather unhappy look on the child’s face. The boy – Humphrey, heir to the family that lived in the house on Robin’s land – was currently being tucked into bed by his mother and nanny, much to his chagrin. Even though his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright with fever, he struggled against their caring touch.

“Cease that at once, Humphrey,” his mother commanded at last, clearly fed up with his antics.

“Oh!” Robin said gleefully, looking from her to the boy. “You better listen, child. She always mean business when she talk like that.”

Humphrey, however, just huffed. “But I want to go outside and play, Mother! The weather is perfect for it.”

His nanny gently pushed against his shoulders to make him lie back against the pillows.

“Maybe tomorrow, young master,” she said, a little more kindly than his mother. “Today, you must rest.”

The boy groaned and crossed his arms in front of his chest in such affront as only children could manage. Some things, Robin mused wistfully, never changed.

“I hate being sick,” Humphrey muttered as his nanny tucked the blanket neatly under his shoulders.

This time, Robin did laugh. “You really not making this easy, are you?”

“Hush,” Humphrey’s mother said. Robin fell silent even though the gentle command was not directed at him. “I will hear no more of this, Humphrey. You are our only son – I will not risk your life just because you’re eager to get back to your silly games.”

“They’re not silly,” Humphrey mumbled.

His mother went on as if she had not heard him. “Nanny may bring you a book to read if you wish but you are to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Is that clear?”

Humphrey sighed. “Yes, mother.”

A rare smiling, as fleeting as the warmth of the sun in spring, crossed his mother’s face. She bent down to press a kiss against his feverish forehead. “Good boy.”

Five minutes later, Humphrey was alone in his room with his favourite book – and Robin.

“This again?” Robin groaned. “Same book all the time. Is boring.”

Clearly, Humphrey did not agree. He eagerly leafed through the well-worn pages, lost in words Robin still had a hard time understanding. With a sigh, Robin settled down at the foot of the bed and looked out of the window to watch the clouds move across the sky.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice quiet and contemplative. “Is not so bad, having to stay inside in bed. When I was your age we didn’t have beds – not like this one, anyway. We had stone floors and furs – not very warm or comfortable, especially in winter. Many people fell ill. Some died. Old ones, mostly, and the very young. Like you.”

Robin closed his eyes, trying to recall the tooth-gapped smile of his youngest brother. He couldn’t.

“Children always think they’re invincible. Nothing scares them. Can be blessing, being that carefree. Can also get you killed.”

Humphrey turned another page, completely unaware of the life lesson he was being taught.

“Your mother just trying to protect you. Might not feel like it but is true. Maybe you understand how scary cough and fever can be when you have children of your own.”

He reached out to pat Humphrey’s leg – just shy of touching him – and left him to his reading. A few days later, when the fever had broken and the cough was finally gone, Robin would share the boy’s mother’s silent relief as they watched Humphrey play outside and try very hard not to remember his brother and the countless other little boys and girls who never got the chance to grow up and become mothers and fathers of their own.

#humphrey bone #robin the caveman #robin #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts fanfic #ask #ask game #ask game prompt ficlet #my fic

26 notes · View notes

foxleycrow · 3 years ago

Photo

Thranduil & Túrin playing together in Doriath, for @tolkiengenweek —when I realized they could have been kids in Doriath at the same time, I had to draw them together.

This one also comes with a short accompanying fic about their meeting:

To Wear an Elven Crown

Thranduil had longed to meet the Adan since he had heard the first tales of his arrival in Doriath. His wish had displaced most other longings in his heart. If he could speak to an Adan, he could practice his Mannish and ask him about so many things, like the life of his people and the world outside the Fence. Beleg Cúthalion had found the Adan lost in the woods, and then King Thingol had adopted him! Thranduil had never heard of anyone adopting an Adan, let alone the king himself. If he were now Thingol's son, did that mean he was an Elf, as well as a Man?

Thranduil had asked his father several times whether he could visit the Adan, but each time he was told the newcomer was too unwell. He had been sick and weak when he was discovered, and he was not yet strong enough to entertain company. This news sank him into a deep state of worry. The Edain could contract illnesses, and were mortal. What if this one became very sick, or even died! Of course, the healers of Doriath were the greatest in Middle-earth, but the Adan had come from dangerous lands far from the protection of Doriath, where anything might have befallen him. Thranduil had heard stories of strange fevers and chills that Edain could suffer from; what if the Elven healers did not know how to treat them?

"If he were to speak with someone his own age, Ada, he might feel better." The Adan was young, like himself. Not precisely the same age, since Edain aged so differently, but near enough in essence. He wondered what kind of games the Edain played. Maybe they had invented some no Elves had dreamed of…

"Do you believe so?" asked Oropher, raising an eyebrow. "An interesting perspective. I did not know you had become such an expert on the matter."

"I would feel better, if it were me." In defiance of his father's eyebrow, he added, "I asked Beleg to tell me everything he knows about the Edain."

"Oh, so you are an expert. My mistake." Oropher's hand settled on his head. Thranduil felt the warmth of his father's skin on his brow and blinked. "He has been through much, little Tuil," said Oropher. "We will not tax him any more than we need to."

After offering a gentle pat, Oropher withdrew his hand. Thranduil lay back, resting his head among the grasses. Thranduil did not expect his father to understand, for Oropher was very old. There were no children in King Thingol's house, and if they would not allow Thranduil to visit and talk to the Adan, then they would not have let any other children in to speak to him; that was obvious.

"I am an expert," Thranduil murmured, closing his eyes. Beleg had told him that the Edain could grow lonely and sad, like Elves, and that they too loved to dance and sing and tell tales. The Adan was named Túrin, and his father had been an Elf-friend. That meant he was an Elf-friend, too. If he was a friend, then he should be treated as one and given a warm welcome by everyone in Menegroth. Surely that would make him feel better than being kept away from others.

"Are you falling asleep?" Oropher asked. "I'll take you back home."

He shook his head stubbornly, the blades of grass making themselves felt on his cheeks and chin. Narrow, but not quite sharp. They did not hurt, but he sensed each one keenly. "No, I want to nap out here in the sun." They were well behind the Fence and close to Menegroth, so these woods were safe and guarded. He could play or explore or rest among the trees whenever he liked, because Queen Melian kept them all from harm.

He heard Oropher's soft laughter and felt his father's hand settle on his head again briefly. Then he was only aware of the warm sun heating his skin and the faintly prickly touch of the grass carpeting the clearing. Soon, he was not aware of the clearing either, lost in a dream, wandering far from the waking world. He dreamed he was journeying through a dark, withered wood, bristling with dead branches. The sky was veiled with dense, gray clouds. There was an unnatural air to them, as if storm clouds had been thickened with smoke.

There was a cold wind at his back, and he was all alone. The dead trees were so tall, they made him feel smaller. He heard something moving behind him, breaking branches and rustling through shriveled leaves. An animal? Or something worse? He did not know, and he did not want to turn to look, so he ran. He ran until he felt he had been always running, yet no matter how quick his steps, the noises behind him persisted, never any closer, but never farther away.

Thranduil woke with a gasp. He sat up and scanned the clearing. It was as green and tranquil as it had been when he fell asleep. He heard the low buzz of insect song and the faint voices of the trees. Father was gone. He saw no sign of anyone nearby, although that was not unusual. The sun's light was starting to fade from the sky. It was that between-time when patches of sunlight were still scattered across the forest floor, while the first stars appeared in the purpling twilight above. Thranduil rose to his feet. He was a little hungry, but he was well-rested, and he wasn't ready to return home. He would rather play, until Father came to fetch him. He left the clearing, slipping into the undergrowth as soundlessly as possible.

One of his favorite games was Marchwarden. It was more fun to play with someone else, but it was a game he could also play alone, simply by moving as quickly and quietly as possible, so that no enemies could see or hear him—exactly like a Marchwarden. He was tracking. Not hunting, but searching for any sign of danger, to keep Doriath safe. He studied whatever tracks he came across, or other signs of passage, such as broken twigs or bent grasses, trying to judge who or what had come the same way, and how long ago. He could wander like this for hours, happily, alone.

He was not entirely happy. He was more uneasy as he searched for signs in the grass, because of his dream. Within the dead wood, he had felt like he would never be allowed to rest, racing with an enemy eternally at his back. Dreams always meant something, but not always what you thought they meant. It took a wise Elf to read dreams. He could have asked his father about it, and maybe he would later. Now, he stalked through the dense growth, crouching low so his pale hair couldn't be seen.

When he heard low and distant voices, Thranduil was still lost in his game, so he crouched lower, listening intently as he crept closer. He slowed his breathing, his heartbeat, hiding as he'd been taught.

"—where he could have gone—?"

"We will find him, and soon. There's only so far...."

"I hadn't thought he was strong enough. I would never have guessed he'd be so quick."

"You shouldn't underestimate—"

The speakers moved away, out of the range of his hearing. Those were two of Thingol's guards. Could they have been talking about the Adan? It was possible, and not only because Thranduil thought of the Adan so often. Who else would they have thought wasn't strong enough? If the Adan was lost, he might grow sicker. Imagine how upset King Thingol would be. If Thranduil was a Marchwarden, then he had a duty to do whatever he could to protect everyone in Doriath: including any Edain. He moved on again, more quickly and with greater purpose.

He studied the forest, down to the least leaf, and he listened to the birds singing, the faint breeze moving through the branches. He listened for telltale noises, or telltale silences. He wondered whether the Adan had had a nightmare, like he had. Maybe that was why he had run off. It must have been hard for him to leave his home behind, especially because of the war: that distant, dark shadow hanging over everything, even the forests of Doriath.

Where would an Adan go? Possibly into the undergrowth, where he was. A place where someone small would hide. Thranduil knew of many secret spaces ideal for concealing himself, but few of them were nearby, close to where the guards were hunting. A slight Adan would leave faint footprints. Like Thranduil, he would have been trained in how to hide, if he were in danger. Thranduil was sure that the great trackers of Doriath could find anyone, but maybe Túrin would be difficult to find, more difficult than they expected.

Thranduil headed toward the Dome—it was a vast, curving structure of twisted woody shrubs, crowned with flowering vines. It was bright enough to draw the eye of a stranger to these woods, and dense enough to provide ample cover and shelter. Thranduil often crawled in there to play, because it was like a fortress. He could pretend he ruled there, lord of the branches and leaves and blossoms.

Thranduil found a faint indentation that might have been left by someone running this way. Shortly after that, he spied a tiny tuft of thread, caught on a hooked thorn. It was bright blue in color, so it stood out more than it might have otherwise. Could he have been correct in thinking the Adan might have been come this way? He had been guessing, but maybe he really was a Marchwarden. He would have to tell Beleg, if he succeeded in his hunt.

Emboldened by the thought that he might be better at tracking than Thingol's own guard, Thranduil sank to his knees and crawled into one of the narrow passageways that led into the Dome. With twisting branches on either side of him, and a ceiling of ivy above, no one outside would be able to see him, once he had travelled the length of a few paces. There were no wider ways in, the growth here was so dense. Anyone who was much larger than Thranduil would have had to cut their way through. Among the branches, Thranduil caught sight of another slight scrap of blue thread. The branches here loved to tug on clothing.

Encouraged, Thranduil moved faster, until he arrived at a fall of dense vines, pushed through them, and found himself confronted by a pair of dark, shining eyes, staring at him. The Adan gave a start, but did not run. It was hard to travel quickly within the Dome, especially if one didn't know it as well as Thranduil did. Thranduil had half-suspected he was imagining his grand success in tracking, so he sat, blinked and stared back at his quarry, startled and bewildered and pleased.

The Adan was seated with his knees drawn up toward his chest. He was very thin, the thinnest child Thranduil had ever seen. His narrow face made his eyes look bigger. Here, he was walled off from the world—or most of it. He looked a great deal like an Elf, although Thranduil could tell he was different as well. It was hard to say exactly why; he simply felt different, like the night air felt different from the air of day, or the atmosphere before a storm as opposed to in the dry season: different in so many various slight ways, some of which were easier to describe than others.

Although Thranduil had longed for their meeting with joy, he felt unexpectedly solemn, now that it was taking place. "Hello," he ventured, in Sindarin. "I'm Thranduil, Son of Oropher."

The Adan blinked, and for a moment, Thranduil wasn't sure if he would—or could—reply, but at last he answered softly, "I'm Túrin, Son of Húrin."

"Why are you out here?" Thranduil asked. He didn't wish to sound accusatory, so he added, "Did you want to play?"

Túrin looked away, into the shadows between the leaves. "I wanted to be by myself."

Thranduil nodded, as this was perfectly understandable. "I like to be by myself, too."

Túrin's gaze shifted back to Thranduil. He seemed relieved to hear this, exhaling.

"Can I stay, though?" Thranduil asked. "Now that I'm here."

"You can stay," Túrin said.

Thranduil knew that Thingol and all his guards and attendants and everyone must be nervous, but he didn't think a little while longer would do any harm, especially not when Túrin must have run here for a reason. Being surrounded by everyone at court could be overwhelming. Thranduil had never been far away from home and everyone he knew before, but it must be hard. It would be better not to rush him. He would let Túrin rest for a little while, and then he would take him to Thingol—just as Beleg had, before.

"I can show you something," he offered.

After another hesitation, Túrin nodded.

"Follow me," said Thranduil. He crawled ahead, between the branches, into the gloom. The last of the day's slight, slipping in through the leaves and vines above, made soft, pale shifting shapes on their hands and on the ground beneath. After a long way, the structure of the dome opened up onto a green glade, surrounded by dense undergrowth on all sides. No one would walk here casually, and if he and Túrin didn't stand up, no one would be able to see them from outside the enclosure. The glade was also hidden, but there was more room to stretch out, and even lie down. It was a fine place for a nap, with soft earth and open sky above. Clusters of flowers grew in profusion, along with tufts of dense grass. Thranduil and Túrin admired their new hiding place in silence, while birds sang in the trees overhead. It was not yet true night, only early twilight. The birds would keep singing a little longer.

"I come here sometimes when I want to be alone," Thranduil said. In the past days and weeks, he had formulated an ever-growing list of questions he would like to ask the Adan, but he did not ask a single one of them now.

Túrin nodded again, lowering his gaze. He reached down and ran his fingers through the grass. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and he did not smile.

"Everyone's looking for you," said Thranduil. "They must be worried."

"I didn't mean to make anyone worry. They shouldn't worry. I don't know why I—" He broke off, closing his eyes.

"It's all right. No one will be angry with you," Thranduil reassured him quickly, moved by Túrin's pained expression. "I'm not angry. I've been waiting to meet you. I've never met an Adan before."

Túrin's eyes reopened, slowly. "Never?"

Thranduil inclined his head in confirmation. "Never."

"I hadn't really met Elves before," said Túrin.

"But now you have. You've met Beleg, and King Thingol, and me. Everyone's happy you're here, that's why they're worried. But we don't have to go back right away. We can wait until you feel better." He cast about the glade, looking for something else he could show the Adan, to cheer him. Along with the two of them, the glade was bursting with life, all the usual green and growing things, rising from the earth and insisting on themselves… "Here—I'll make you something."

"Make me what—?"

"Look." Thranduil's gaze went to a stand of nearby pale purple flowers. These particular blossoms were edible and often harvested. It would do no harm to take a few, especially at this time of year. Quickly, he plucked a few of them, leaving a length of green stem on each. Once he had gathered enough, he wove them together. Flowers and grasses were easy to weave, especially into a circle. When they were joined, he tapped them with his fingers. He could feel the energy moving through the blooms and stems. He closed his eyes briefly, concentrating on that living force, pressing the separate strands of it into one: forging it into a single, singing ring and willing the flowers—live, preserve. They were no longer separate blooms; they had become a single entity. Their petals, which had been in the first stage of wilting, straightened with pride, made fresh and new. It was such a simple thing to do, yet Túrin was wide-eyed and rapt, staring at his hands as if he had performed a wonder. "A crown for you, Prince Túrin." Thranduil reached out and settled the circlet of blooms on Túrin's head.

Finally, Túrin smiled at him. Thranduil smiled back.

They did not stay long, alone in that green glade together, hidden by a conspiracy of leaves and vines and branches. They were never meant to stay long. The world outside was waiting for them to emerge. While the sun receded and the stars began to show themselves—one by one at first, then all at once, like a rain of jewels scattering across the sky—they played and laughed for a few moments.

As Thranduil predicted, when they returned to Menegroth, Túrin did not receive a single scolding. Thingol wrapped him in a fierce embrace. Beleg was as impressed by Thranduil's skills as Thranduil had hoped. He praised Thranduil for his skill in tracking, and said he could visit Túrin whenever he wanted. Eventually, he was able to ask Túrin every question on his extensive list.

Many long years later, tragedy faded into myth for so many, but not for those who were there. Thranduil rarely listened to the sad songs that touched on the subject of Túrin Turambar, but when a certain mood was on him, he would ask the harpers to play one of the few he approved of. Thranduil had grown very old. Seated on his throne, wearing his own heavy crown, he would lean back and remember the smile of a young boy with his dark hair full of flowers.

#thranduil #turin turambar #thranduil art #thranduil fic #tolkiengenweek #silmarillion #silmarillion art #silmarillion fic #tolkien #tolkien art #tolkien fic #oropher #silm fic #silm art #silm

223 notes · View notes

flocholate-chip · 4 years ago

Note

imagine comforting floch after he has a nightmare n petting his hair while he clings onto you im going to be ill i love him sm

Omfg literally imagine though. It’s late and the window is slightly cracked and the room is chilly, and you have the blanket pulled up over your shoulder on the verge of sleep. The door startled you when you hear a soft bang, and then you realize somebody is knocking on the wood. They sound so hesitant and unsure. You’ve been at the yeagarist base as a ‘prisoner’ for about a week now. I put parentheses on prisoner because you aren’t even sure if you can consider yourself one. You’re given almost full reign of the base, simply because for reasons you can’t understand, the devoted charismatic ginger is so so desperate that you see his point and join his side. He could care less if the others agree with them, he’ll mow them down, and yet for some reason it’s so important to him that you agree with him. You don’t get it, but what can you really do?

And then you find yourself laying there questioning which buttfuck yeagarist is knocking on your door so late. It surely isn’t an emergency. There would be more shouting outside, or the knocks would be more urgent at least. The knocks seem so light the person might as well not even be trying to wake you up, which defeated the whole purpose of wrapping their knuckles on the wooden door in the first place.

None the less you find yourself getting up, pulling on your robe as you adjust the silk of the outfit you’re wearing. (Depending on your gender preference that could be a nightgown or maybe you’re just a really classy homie rocking a silk button down. You know? Feel yourself.)

You don’t even bother tying the thick fluffy robe completely around your waist, as you don’t feel you have time. By the time your bare feet had hit the floor to make their way to your door the knocking had already slowed. And by the time you were at the door, adjusting the silk of your sleepwear to make sure you were presentable, the knocking had completely stoppped.

Your hand brushes against the cold metal of the handle, tainted by the chilled air, and you shiver slightly before pushing down on it and pulling open the door to the sight of....

Nothing....

You stare for a moment in shock and confusion at the empty doorway, blinking a couple of times before clearing your throat, muttering a soft

“What the fuck...?” Under your breath as you barely stepped out into the hallway, looking down both ways. If you saw no one... you were going to assume you were being fucked with, or this place was haunted as fuck.

You looked left and the hallway was empty... so you looked right,

Just in time to catch a sliver of ginger hair attempting to quickly disappear around the corner.

So you stepped out just a little further into the hall, squinting slightly in the dark before stepping out after the person. You just needed to get close enough to see who was fucking with you and then-

Your hand hit their shoulder, whipping them around quickly, which they didn’t seem to like, as they quickly flinched away. You weren’t sure how you’d moved fast enough to catch up with them already but, god speed you know?

None the less, when you saw the face of the person standing before you, you were left momentarily shocked, trying to piece together what the fuck was happening.

“Forster???”

He grimaced and looked away. You stood there for a moment, mouth opening and closing confusedly like a fish out of water. You caught your breath then, and took in a gasp of air, preparing to use it to go off on him and ask him why he was playing such a cheap prank as ding dong ditching. Didn’t he have better things to do???

But then- you stopped yourself, one finger pointed out in front of your face and mouth hanging open as if you were about to begin to make a statement but... you couldn’t. You were caught off guard by something else.

Maybe you had just connected that he flinched when you first touched him. Or maybe you were finally questioning why his cheeks were so red. His eyes were puffy.... nose just as red as his flushed cheeks. He was biting his lower lip slightly, brows furrowed. Both of his fists were clenched at his sides tightly. His ken doll cut of ginger hair was... messy. It was parted at an odd direction to the left, part of it sticking up at an odd angle as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

The closer you looked... come to think of it. His green military jacket looked hastily thrown on.... the uniform underneath softer than usual.... sleep where? Were his shoulders shaking???

Your hand dropped slowly back to your side as you watched his face. He refused to seem to want to meet your gaze. So, for a moment you both just stood there in silence before you finally softly muttered,

“Floch??” You tried to be careful with your tone. You weren’t sure what state the self appointed captain was in.

He took in a deep breath, and then suddenly blurred out.

“So do you hate me? Or what??”

You stared in absolute awe for a second as you tried to process the word vomit that had just been thrown at you. Finally, squinting slightly in confusion you murmured,

“What? No- i don’t hate you floch... what are you doing though it’s late? Surely you’re not outside my door at three in the morning to ask me if i am fond of you or not.”

“So you don’t hate me?” He dodged your question.

“Why won’t you listen to me then? Nothing is working out right now- these battles are going to shit and it seems like we’re loosing and-“

You’d never seen him like this.

“These people are relying on me!” He continued,

“They’re relying on me to be eren’s voice! And I’m only trying to do what’s right for the sake of Eldia and i really can’t keep fighting this hard without-“

“Floch- what the hell are you-“

“I need you!” He spat.

“All you do is deny me but i need you, don’t you get that?”

You found yourself silent again, standing there staring at the ginger in shock, you had no idea how to process what you were hearing.

“I need you like you were there for me four years ago....” he whispered. And finally he made eye contact with you, and you noticed the fresh glaze of liquid on his lower lids. The way it made his golden brown eyes glisten in the moonlight coming from the small hall window. His lip was trembling, his voice cracked.

“I lost everyone... y/n.... and you were the ONLY one that was there for me? Why- i don’t know, you had so many other things to do and you chose to stick by me.... i need you like that again.... please... tell me you’ll stand by me again.”

“Floch...” you were quiet for a moment, trying to find your words, and then you spoke.

“You’re one of my closest comrades-“ at the word ‘comrade’ you watched the light leave his eyes a little bit, and you stumbled to reword your sentence, not quite sure where you went wrong.

“You know I’ll always stand by you- even if i don’t support what you-“

“I need you more than i needed you then-“ he interrupted you.

“I wanted you more then... but.... i need you more now.”

“Floch- what in the world are you talking ab-“ you could barely get a word in with the ginger being as worked up as he was.

“I need you more now! I need you in a different way!”

“Floch!” You whisper hissed, reaching out and slapping a hand over his mouth. He let out a muffled shout, which you aggressively shushed.

“What has gotten into you, do you want to wake up everyone in this base?!?” You hissed. He was quiet for a moment, glancing back and forth from your hand to your eyes. You cleared your throat and then in a calmer tone, very gently whispered.

“I don’t know what you mean by a different way, Floch i need you to really explain to me what you need from me because i can’t help you if you don’t explain to me what the fuck is running through that muddled little mind of yours....”

“Y/n....” he whimpered slightly, looking desperate if not almost hopeless.

“You’ve been my only real friend for years.... always sticking around me and staying with me when things were at their worst. Defending me.... caring for me... you’d have to understand where i get off wanting more out of this relationship.”

“I mean... maybe?” You muttered.

“But- I’m not sure I’m following. You’re ranting frantically and By the walls you’re shaking like a leaf.... why don’t we get you some tea and then you can explain to me what-“

You were cut off by something warm pressed against your lips, and you fought for a moment before realizing it was the ginger’s desperate... and awkward attempt at kissing you. It wasn’t... the best kiss you’d ever had in regards to technique but... something about it still set your body on fire. Within seconds, without even thinking you’d thrown your arms around his neck, gently pulling him closer. His whole body shuttered at your welcoming invite his romantic advance and he tilted his head slightly to deepen the sloppy kiss. He was simply desperate to feel you on his skin. You weren’t pushing him off... after weeks of your avoidant behavior you weren’t pushing him off. You weren’t telling him to get the fuck away from you. He felt his knees buckle slightly, but he didn’t think it was that big of a deal until you’d gasped. He only then realized his lips weren’t on yours anymore, and he was leaned into you awkwardly, topped over on his knees in front of you.

“Floch....” you muttered softly, slipping a hand around to gently support him before he fell completely over.

“Woah woah.... you never explained why you’d been crying. What’s going on... are you okay?”

He cleared his throat, tiredly resting his head against your stomach as he tried to grab his bearings again, grunting out in embarrassment,

“Sorry i just.... i.... i had a nightmare is all... it’s not that big of a deal... listen... um.”

With this new found fuck up he was having to face, he was quickly considering the option of just retreating and not having to face the fact that he just kissed you and collapsed.

“Maybe i should just go back to my room and we can talk about this tomorrow over tea? I-“

“Floch.... no.” You sighed quietly, slipping a hand gently around his torso.

“Come on.... come sleep in my bed.... it’s okay.”

He was still for a moment, contemplating, before nodding.

Your room was still cool, but he found comfort in the chilly air even after he took off his jacket, exposing his arms to the cold. Sliding into the bed against your warm body seemed to ease every ounce of cold in the room, and he welcomed the offer to gently nuzzle his face into your plush chest, soothed by the sound of your heart beat.

“So this is why you’ve been so intent on keeping me around, huh?” You joked softly as you gently brought a hand up to card through his hair.

“Because you love me?”

Your smile dropped from smug to adoring, however, when he softly responded with only a sleepy,

“Mhm.... i... love you.” Into your chest, muffled by your skin. Gently, you curled yourself around him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you wrapped your leg around his torso to pull him closer.

“I love you too flochy....” you whispered softly as you carded your fingers through the ginger’s soft locks, stopping to gently toy with his adorable bangs.

“Get some sleep...” you sighed as you shut your eyes, feeling him hug you tighter.

“And you’ll still be here when i wake up?” He questioned hesitantly, to which you softly replied,

“Promise....”

And when sunrise came, you were, face still buried in his hair, breathing softly. He needed you more than you expected, but you still had no problem coming in clutch. After all, it wasn’t always easy to love him, but for him it was worth it.

((WHY DOES IT ALWAYS BECOME A WHOLE FIC. WHY CAN’T I RESPOND TO ASKS NORMALLY.))

#attack on titan #aot #floch forster #floch x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #floch #aot season 4 #floch aot #aot floch #armin arlert

242 notes · View notes

sometipsygnostalgic · 3 years ago

Text

adventure time wizard city liveblog

well here we go

my last adventure time liveblog, i havent actually done one of these in MANY years... probably not since 2014

this takes place at the same time as obsidian?

DID-- DID CHOOSE GOOSE JUST DIE

DID BUFO JUST KILL CHOOSE GOOSE

yeah i know that’s bufo, they only made it enormously obvious, tsk tsk

@spaceacepearl joked about us seeing choose goose get sent to hell but i diDNT EXPECT IT TO HAPPEN

This music is i assume by one of the many musical artists Adam Muto listed on twitter, it rocks. It’s not as hardcore as Obsidian’s intro, but it’s suitably chill for the scene.

“get offa my bus kid”

Those wizards in the left and far right groups appear to be new!

OH MY GOD--

HELP?????? NEW PROFILE PIC TIME

HAHAHAHAH

THE MUSICAL CON DID ME GOOD, I DID REALLY LOUD AUDIBLE LAUGHTER

i bet hanna and co had fun making these signs

my favourite is the cat with “FAMILIARS HAVE RIGHTS”

cadorka..... wow

We’re not even four minutes into the ep and peppermint butler has already killed someone in front of a large group of witnesses

“this smells of DARK MAGIC” “yall kids know thats illegal right” peps watches the other kids nod before later joining in, LOL

i cant believe pep started the great gum wars and got killed by golb

SOMEONE has been playing Overwatch...

i-- i still cant believe choose goose is fucking dead

how long was he stuck in hell for, or was that recent to together again after new death showed up

i have to admit im not a big fan of spader, too perfect, and not in that funny way either. i hope they give him some characteristics that make him stand out.

im getting flashbacks to OK KO and Owl House here...

Cadebra using music is a reference to Abracadaniel’s love of interpretetive dance in Play Date.

“they only laugh because youre different” “i know” “SO STOP BEING DIFFERENT” oh my god it’s like talking to my own parents cadebra is actually... a LOT like me, less in her hyperactivity but more in her nonchalant enthusiasm and almost acceptance of the inevitable bullying because it means more time in people’s consciousness

ahhh - it’s quietly revealed here that she is responsible and a skilled magician, she is just bored of magic! i like that she parents abracadaniel instead of being downtrodden by his ramblings.

PEP NO--- oh i see the problem, he hasn’t got his Bug Milk... sorry Martin Olsen fans, no Hunson today. At least we get one more Phil Face for the road!

candy people in their natural habitat

Ahhh that’s Doctor Calidoneus! The voice actor was at the recent Distant Lands panel alongside Pep and Blaine’s actors.

“pretty sure hes just trashcandy” - i like you, sassy antler lady

the mystery of how he gets clothes

and once again spader is proving to be the most irritating distant lands character of the lot, there is no subversion here. where is the subversion?

NANI

what is going on here? are pep and peppermint the same person or not? im sure they must be, but there is something going on here with peppermint butler’s soul being trapped in the body of his child self who hasn’t got the same memories.

OH, HYNDEN WALCH DID A NEW LINE yes this is what im here for, special over

peppermint butler cursed himself... of course he did - Shado was correct!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUCK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

ROCK STUDENT, BLESSED ROCK STUDENT, WAS THAT POOR GUY WHO LOOKS LIKE A JAWBREAKER

love the reference to astral plane, of course pep cant astrally project because cursed pep is still inside of him

wow, blaine, wow

they have a crush

LITTLE DUDE! COLE SANCHEZ!

i love the dynamic between cadebra and abracadaniel, imo so far it’s the heart of the special. im not really gripped by peppermint butler’s school troubles. i imagine someone else probably will be but i want to run past that shit as far as possible.

TRDGFYGHJH

WE MADE A PREDICTION THAT WAS JUST LIKE THIS

PEPPERMINT BUTLER GETTING TURNED INTO THE FOUR COMPONENTS OF PEPPER MINT BUTT LURE WAS IN THE WIZARD CITY PREDICTIONS ART DRAW THAT HASNT BEEN POSTED YET

ILL SHOW YOU WHEN NICK POSTS THE VIDEO and then ill tell you who made the prediction because i... think it was nick himself, insanity

who plagiarized finn’s signature???

turns out pep really DID take over wizard city!!!!

i love this band

i understand your pain peps

you probably have a bit too much in common with your mother, and i imagine it isn’t easy being turned into a kid and not being able to do stuff that came so easy. you’re disappointing yourself! (he’s literally disappointing himself)

I’m less than halfway through the special, what the fuck. I wasn’t wrong when I said Wizard City had a lot on its plate. It’s noit that I’ve been particularly gripped up to this point, though to be fair I didn’t pause at all during the other specials barring Obsidian.

that... that poor kid is still a rock

and then the preview happened and bufo casually revealed to the audience that, yes, he killed choose goose

i dont know whats happening with pep but it seems he needs to be exorcised of... pep. which is a shame. i hope they learn to coexist.

i have to say the background work in this special is really good! like, really damn good.

WHAT

DID SPADER JUST DIE

IS THIS WHY PEOPLE THINK PEPBUT KILLED HIM

oh thats right - abracadaniel is cadebra’s uncle! this must be abracadniels sister. sorry, folks, he doesn’t fuck.

Where are they? Is this anywhere near Wizard City? It’s an unpopulated prewar wasteland.

THESE ARE JUST HUMANS

OF COURSE SHE WANTS TO PERFORM TO MILQUETOAST HUMANS

my child

is this an art style choice or did they get the people from that one studio to make this

HANNA FINALLY GETS TO FULFIL HER DREAM OF INSERTING KANEDA INTO ADVENTURE TIME

the red jacket he wears and his head pill shape is a big kaneda reference actually, which i suppose makes sense considering he’s a rival to our protagonist, but it’s a bit on the nose

bufo killed one of his own students? but why????

“MY UNCLE’S A COP”

“no one likes a rat”

i actually really like blaine, though im confused. did their VA change halfway through the special?

HOW NATURAL, NO WASTE, IT IS AN ENDLESS CHAIN

did doctor caledonius steal the trophy,,,?

EVIL SNAIL EVIL SNAIL

MONMSTER HUNJTER DISCOVERY NOISE, this time it’s a tetsucabra

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I HAVE QUESTIONS

god i wish this is what this special was about, i miss adventure time

these remind me of the comics with their art style :) i wonder who designed them? the one on the right with pb and pep, in particular, very comics-y.

fdgfhgf because he’s like 500

“pep can be kind of a jerk but he wouldn’t kill anyone”

sorry, cadebra, i have news for you

is doctor calednoius the true villain? if bufo’s out of the picture, she MUST be,

ANTS

oh no, he might gbe stuck in wizard city :(

HELP

the writing on the wall...

SPADER LITERALLY FUCKING DIED OH YM JESUS CHRIST

PEPPERMINT BUTLER’S OWN CULT????

THIS IS JUST OK KO NOW

okay im not surprised all the teachers at wizard city are cultists in worship of peps, maybe they killed spader and bufo because they bullied peps T_T

wait no, they thought spader had the potential, but sadly not

HE FUCKING KILLED HIMSELF

sorry, i was distracted by the pretty dope fight sequence and now the special is over????

fucking jesse, hes probably at least partly responsible for the cult nonsense

This credits art is by Maya Petersen!!!! Holy shit it’s adorable!

LRETGFDRGTFGMHGFHFG

LEAF MAN

DO YOU THINK THEY PUT HIM IN RETROSPECTIVELY

DO YOU THINK MAYA PETERSEN DREW THIS AND ADAM PUT IT IN THE EP RETROSPECTIVELY

HE LIVES

MAYBE THIS IS WHY CHOOSE GOOSE WENT TO HELL

okay, it’s over :)

first thoughts out of the way: not a big fan of this special. it’s like watching a completely different show. it’s not got the PZSHAHH of the normal wizard city stuff and there weren’t a lot of funny jokes or even hearty moments in the thing.

it suffers from a lack of invested character interactions, much like BMO did. there was not a single main cast member in the whole thing! and like i said before, much of peppermint butler’s character in the show is based on his very sweet relationship to his mother, princess bubblegum, so when they showed a single (hilarious) photo of them together it made me sad we didn’t get any scenes with them together. it would have STOLEN this episode. and they teased the hunson golf photo, and death!!! and jake appeared in a photo T_T last jake appearance.

it also suffers because Peppermint Butler is clearly not himself, imo he was way more entertaining in the Together Again special, where we seem him back to his “normal” self.

i dont think peps being a dark wizard was something to “kill off” exactly. i wonder what was going on there? was that actually peps, or was that a spirit he cursed himself with based on himself? we at least know in the future he does become a dark wizard again, and even princess :) this special didn’t answer those questions but lol.

THE GOOD STUFF, because yes, there was a lot of good stuff!

God, I’m with Aracle and Maya on this - I LOVE Cadebra and her relationship to Pep. I wish she was even in more of this - I would love to watch the adventures of Cadebra and Pepbut in their first year of school, like in the end credits.

That, imo, is where the heart of the special lay - Peppermint Butler’s attempts to impress himself, versus Cadebra’s self acceptance and desire to follow her dreams of being a goofy goober, no matter what other people thought of her.

It turned out that Cadebra is a responsible student and family member. I really liked that. Her scenes with Abracadaniel were, somehow, my favourite in the entire special!

I like that theres a lot of cool magic towards the end of this special, and a lot of HORRIFYING DEATH. It wouldn’t be adventure time if you didn’t randomly kill off child characters. Poor Spader, I hated you but damn, what a grim fate.

I like that Bufo and Caledonius had this crush/hatred thing going on, but they were part of the same cult in the end.

I didn’t like the giant peps scene at the end, the monster was extremely milquetoast compared to the madness we usually get in AT. Obsidian, for example, had the awesome Larvo design. Nemesis had some INSANE dark magic!!!! I wish they drew more from that episode.

Considering how much Steve Little appears in this special, I do feel bad for Mace (little Peps). He said he would have really benefitted from coaching, but recieved none. He had to re-record his lines 3 times! Judging from his description of events, Wizard City was a hard time for him.

The wizard school did remind me, heavily, of both The Owl House and OK KO. Personally I was hoping AT would offer me something more insane, but I do love both of those shows, and I know Wizard City was on a really tight schedule.

I think they should have spent less time on the school bullying plot, and skipped straight to MURDER.

We did have a cold opening, not on par with Together Again’s at all, but damn!

I am wondering where I would put this in the watch list? I do think it should sit after Obsidian as the third special. The intro scene makes it clear this takes place at the same time as Obsidian!!!

Well, that was it, the last ep of AT for the next few years at least T_T

i think together again was the better finale, definitely. but wizard city feels pretty detached from AT for me, despite the familiar characters it tonally isn’t like the show other than the awesome brutal death scenes. I thought the last 11 minutes was easily the best in the special! Which, honestly, is how it should be, though I do wish it gripped me more. Maybe I’m just not the target audience for Wizard City? It feels like something I would find very compelling if I was a bit younger!

#adventure time #wizard city #atimers

31 notes · View notes

pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

Text

Utakata Hanabi

Prompt: Festival | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

Funny how things change over time – from Uchiha Sasuke, youngest heir among the biggest clan in Konohagakure, most handsome, the brightest, the one with highest potential to Uchiha Sasuke, the traitor.

It has become difficult to stay beside Haruno Sakura, the girl who bugged him to no end at the academy but now the world-renowned medical ninjutsu specialist, the peak flower of the Hidden Leaf Village, the most beautiful and the strongest but also the woman he loves.

Her admirers flock daily to the village’s hospital where she is the head of medical corps, and to her and Ino’s newly established mental facility. These so-called patients have a unique array of illnesses which often end up with a scolding prescription rather than a real medical certificate. He wonders if he deserves to monopolize her affections.

These thoughts stay with him even if she spends nights in his state-sanctioned apartment, her steady breaths against his chest, and her hair splayed between his fingers, even if she prepares him bento boxes for lunch as he gets ready to spend the whole day briefing the council of elders of his missions, even if she kisses him in the shower before leaving. No one knew they were even together. This is a burden he had to carry – the stigma of his name, the inability of society to forgive, the consensus that he doesn’t belong.

And so it catches him off guard when Sakura brings up the summer festival. “I already picked out a fabric for my yukata. It’s so pretty I don’t want it to go to waste.” She bats him with her puppy eyes impression – her emerald irises jumping at his defenses.

“Sakura,” he starts as he reaches for her hands on the couch. “I want to but you know how it is.”

“And you know how I don’t care about any of that, right?” She looks at their intertwined fingers, and she blushes, quite not used to with their intimacy although they are already quite far in that particular journey. “I just want to see the fireworks…together.”

“We can see the fireworks together. They’re on the same sky anyway.”

Sakura lifts her fingers away from his grasp. “I’ve spent countless summers watching them alone. Now you’re here, and you don’t even want to go. I think I’m gonna sleep early.”

She’s angry. Sasuke finishes creating new storage scrolls and climbs on the bed with her. He hugs her with his lone arm and breathes in the fading lavender scent on her hair. “Maybe I can compromise.”

Sasuke apologizes with a fancy dinner the next day, and by dinner, that meant miso soup, grilled mackerel, kani salad, and her favorite – blueberry muffins. Sakura beams seeing the freshly baked dessert on their table. She also sees two masks on the edge, the compromise he talked about while she was already drowsy in slumber.

He holds them up – a fox and a dragon – and he is rewarded with a grin. “Wear your yukata tomorrow, Sakura.”

--------

She is beautiful, she has always been, and he loved her long pink hair ever since they met. When she cut it off in the Forest of Death, he felt a slight of pang of loss, even more so when it was because of him. Finally grown to her waist, she lets them down for the night in a long single braid adorned with cherry blossoms and her fringes clipped to the side with two butterfly pins. Her yukata, white and adorned with stars, fits her like second skin. She is beautiful.

They walk together hand in hand in the lantern-lit street filled with the crowd. No one actually pays them attention, everyone is too busy catching fish, playing shooting games, and trying all food stalls. They find a space on the riverbank, and they sit together on the grass, hands still clasped with each other.

“Are you happy?” Sasuke asks behind his mask. He slightly regrets this arrangement since he cannot see her expression, and Sakura has these charming microexpressions, like she wears her heart on her sleeve, an open page for everyone to read.

Before she could say anything, a pair of young men also dressed in yukata taps her shoulder. Sasuke immediately lets go of her hand.

“Dr. Haruno! We were right to come tonight. You never fail to go to summer festivals.”

Sakura takes off her mask and smiles back at them. “How did you know it was me?”

“We can spot your pink hair anywhere, Ma’am.”

“We can immediately see you in the sea of crowd. Do you need company?”

“It would be sad to see your outfit go unappreciated.”

Sasuke can feel a headache coming on. He is never the jealous type but the audacity of these kids to hit on Sakura.

She tilts her head, and her voices takes on an apologetic tone. “I’m actually with someone.” To drive the point further, she reaches for his hand and returns her fingers to where they were before they came. “You can enjoy the rest of the festival.”

Sasuke eyes them through his mask, and true enough, they are unperturbed because why would Sakura spend this important social evening with someone hiding behind a prop. But they eventually leave, knowing when to respect her wishes and knowing what happens if they don’t.

More people start filling the riverbank, indicating the start of the fireworks. Sakura eases in closer to him and wraps her arm with his. To their surprise, an elderly man sits beside Sasuke and waves to Sakura.

“Dr. Haruno.” He surmises this must be a previous patient of hers.

“It’s nice to see you with company this year. I was actually thinking of introducing my son to you later this month.”

Sakura chuckles, sensing the annoyance ooze out from Sasuke. “Oh my, there’s no need.”

“I see that. You look happy, happier than I’ve seen you in the past years,” the old man remarks then he fixes his gaze on the man beside him. “You.”

Sasuke slightly shifts to face him and bows in respect. “Good evening, Sir.”

“I’ve seen this girl come to the summer festival every year without fail. She would sit on the riverbank, her hair done up, with some makeup on, and wait for the fireworks. And when they finally light up, she would allow herself to cry, hiding her tears in the celebration, thinking no one looks beside them when the sky is showered with beautiful explosions. I sometimes think why the hell would a gorgeous girl spend the festival like that and watch fireworks with her eyes on the ground. And this year again, she’s here. You better not make her cry.”

“Oji-chan, you can stop now. You’re traumatizing my date,” Sakura lightly protests. She gives him a smile and words a soundless thank you.

“My child, he deserves to know. Anyway, I’ll leave you two and my knees are starting to hurt again.” The old man starts to get up, but he stares openly at Sasuke, piercing the mask barrier with a glare. “I’m serious though, you better not make this girl cry again.”

Sakura laughs and pulls Sasuke tighter. “Of course, he won’t. You come visit me tomorrow Oji-chan so I can prescribe you some meds. Okay?”

The old man pats the top of Sakura’s head and walks away into the crowd. The countdown starts from the opposite of the riverbank, and they hear the explosion. Colors burst into the velvet sky, and her emerald eyes follow the bright traces of the sparkling lights.

Sasuke slowly lifts off his mask and places it on the grass. He foregoes the sight above and focuses on the one beside him, memorizing every line on her face, committing them to his memory, savoring the awed glint in her eyes. He stays like that for the duration of the show without care for anyone who might have recognized him.

She finally notices his look and shifts her attention. He lets go of her hand and allows his fingers to tuck a stray strand behind her ear then he brings her closer to him and plants a soft kiss on her lips, their first public kiss, shrouded comfortably by the distracted crowd and the ephemeral lights above.

“I love you,” he whispers against her ear, and she responds by leaning against his chest with his arm around her, enjoying the last seconds of the show, a giddy smile on her face.

Links for Utakata Hanabi: Youtube | Spotify

#ssm21 #sasusaku month #sasusaku #ssm21d2 #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke #sakura #fanfic #anime fanfiction

44 notes · View notes

ladyeliot · 4 years ago

Photo

Dance with me

Request: Anonymous: Hi saw your post for the Valentine’s Day request and that’s really cause that’s my birthday too so yay 😀 anyway how abt a tony x reader exes angstfluff thanks

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: As is customary on Valentine's Day, a charity gala is held by your company to raise funds, but this year you'll have to face it alone - your ex-boyfriend won't be with you, or maybe he will?

Warnings: Angst and a bit fluff.

Word count: 2712

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Valentine’s Day (Prompts)

Your company's annual fundraising party couldn't be more ill-timed. You still didn't understand why it had to be held on 14 February, well you had a pretty good idea. Year after year the upper echelons of New York City and its environs gathered together, more than for a charitable cause, to find the next gossip that would be the most talked about for months to come.

In years past, the only thing that had saved you from the suffering and discomfort you felt every time you walked through the door was your companion, your partner, but that year you had to face all those vipers on your own. The relationship with Tony Stark had come to an end after four years, more than mutually, you took a big part in that decision. Things were becoming difficult for you, it was hard to overcome all the events he was involved in day by day, as well as his constant attempts to save himself from death. You couldn't cope.

It was arguably the most complicated decision you had ever made in your life, there was a long and complex history, your relationship was by no means simple, nor was it easy to begin with, so obviously it wasn't easy to end. You had to endure news that reported Iron Man's disappearance, that he was badly injured and some had even given him up for dead, then everything was solved, but you didn't want to see the day when he really was, you couldn't bear it. It wasn't easy for him either, he was afraid that his actions would put you in danger, so he understood what you were telling him, he accepted your decision and accepted it in the end. You also accepted his decision to go on with his life as a superhero, you could never ask him to do otherwise.

The Frick Collection art museum on Manhattan's Upper East Side was the selected venue for the charity event. It had been ranked for two consecutive years as "one of the most memorable parties of the year" by the New York Times, but your viewpoint was far from those words. Unlike the vast majority of those present you made a rather discreet entrance, you had made the decision to stay calm and leave as soon as possible, so you would have a few drinks, chat with the guests and put the day behind you as soon as possible. After all, it was your duty to get your company's guests to donate as much money as possible to charity.

You could not deny that the atmosphere was not pleasant, visually you found yourself enveloped by numerous pieces of art accompanied by the sweet melody of an orchestra that filled the atmosphere. The architectural elements of the place also generated an escape from the outside world. Generally the conversations were banal, related to work, art, politics or social life, nothing you couldn't cope with, plus the glass of champagne you were holding in your right hand helped with that.

The problem came when they began to notice that you were not accompanied by Mr. Stark on this occasion. Time after time it was your turn to report that the two of you had decided to go your separate ways, and time after time you had to listen to the lamentations, looks of pity, and on several occasions critical remarks about him. What you didn't know was that in the crowd there was a pair of curious eyes watching you.

Your limit was coming to an end, so you decided to escape the atmosphere for a few minutes to get some fresh air, you needed a breather if you were to last a couple of hours in this place. The gardens were just as engrossing as the interior. There was not a single leaf protruding from the vegetation, and the singing of the fountain water professed a relationship in your body, no one could tell you were in the middle of the island of Manhattan.

"Have you given up already?" you closed your eyes as you heard that tone of voice behind you. "I was surprised to see you talking so long with Mrs. Fox, at one point I even thought you were going to spill the champagne on her dress."

Without turning around you smiled at his words, for more than once you had thought of throwing your glass of champagne at them and leaving the place.

"You look beautiful tonight," you felt her voice grow closer. "You've always known I love that dress."

Her body was so close to you that you felt her jacket brush lightly against her bare back. At no time had it crossed your mind that Tony would show up there that night, on the contrary, you thought he would be anywhere else but New York. Taking a breath of air into your lungs, giving yourself strength, you decided to turn around and face him face to face. You hadn't seen each other for months and the last time you did, things didn't go so well, so you hadn't spoken to each other again.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" you asked in a serious tone, which didn't surprise him.

"Assuming this is a benefit party," he began holding out his hands, "I'm guessing drinking several dry martinis, Scotch, champagne, putting up with comments I don't care about and letting them praise me to get my money's worth."

"I thought you hated these kinds of parties," you expounded somewhat uncomfortably at the situation.

"And I do," he stated bluntly, taking a sip of his martini. "But you have to think about charity too, don't you?"

You knew him well enough to differentiate his tones in conversations, you knew when he was using his ironic tone, when he was lying, when he was insecure or when he was speaking from within. On this occasion his words contained extra information that he wasn't telling you, so you opted to give up on him, you had to deal with the people inside that building, you couldn't start a war with Tony right now.

"In that case," you started to walk away towards the inside of the museum, "I hope you enjoy your evening, Tony".

You had left Tony and his dry martini behind, now all you had to do was get through a couple more hours without incident and the day could be over. You picked up another glass of champagne from the tray of one of the waiters and before you could look for a target you were already inside a group of investors of your company showing the best of your smiles.

You kept the thought of him being there from your mind, but it was practically unavoidable for you. You didn't want to destabilise yourself, but it was more than evident that you still felt something towards Tony, feelings don't go away overnight and even more so towards a person you had loved with all your being. He knew it, he had an advantage in that sense, you weren't as good as him at hiding feelings, that's why you chose to stay as far away as possible from your ex-partner. But it wasn't possible.

"Mr. Herbert, Mr. Johnson," as if out of nowhere he joined the group you were conversing with. "Oh, Mrs. Johnson, you look splendid tonight."

Tony's compliments fell on Mrs. Johnson, who blushed when she heard them. Who didn't blush when someone like him told you how beautiful you were? He had a superhuman power over people, and he played it really well.

"Would you allow me to steal Miss Y/L/N from you?" he asked flashing a smile on his face.

"Please," they offered.

"Excuse me," you said with little escape. "I won't be long."

As if you didn't have a word in the matter Tony tackled you, walking a couple of feet away from the group with whom you were getting to close a big deal for the future of the company.

"Tony was about to-"

"Dance with me," he said curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What?" you asked a little puzzled.

His brown eyes stared into yours. You began to get a little nervous at the intensity of his gaze, so you looked around.

"Dance with me."

"I... I don't have time to dance with you," you explained, gesturing with your hands. "I'm here working, you know that better than anyone."

"I know," he nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. "That's why I'm asking you to dance with me. You know I'm the biggest benefactor of the night. So... dance with me." Tony lowered the tone of his voice, more seductive, one you knew perfectly well.

"Are you... blackmailing me? Or, worse, are you buying me with money?" you asked with a somewhat surly frown.

"I wasn't the one who said you were working," he defended himself. "But looking at it that way... there's no one else here who would get the money out of me."

"I thought you were doing this for charity," you attacked him.

"And I am," he said with all the confidence in the world. "But I need you to give your hand out to please me, too."

Tony offered you his hand along with a slight smile slanted across his face. You were playing with fire, you really would be if you decided to take his hand and surrender at his feet. The night would turn around completely, but what you feared most was how it would end. Inside you two opposing parts were fighting to select the best decision, on the one hand your brain was literally telling you to reject him and get out of there as soon as possible, on the other hand your emotions were screaming at you to take his hand and let yourself go. Whatever you did, you were likely to regret it later, so you chose to regret doing it.

You took a breath and released him by placing your hand on his, which amplified his smile even more. Without a second thought, he led you to the dance floor, where the melody coming from a group of musicians could be heard with more effusiveness. It was relaxed, soothing, inviting you to dance in pairs. Tony gently pulled you to his body and placed the palm of his hand on your bare back, too far south for your liking, on the contrary, you placed it on his shoulder.

"Relax," he whispered inches from your face. "We've done this many times."

"I'm relaxed," you lied in a way he couldn't quite believe, so you tried to justify yourself. "I'm just thinking that I should go with Mr. Johnson to-"

"Oh, you're thinking about another man while you're dancing with me?" he asked cutting you off with mock indignation. "Very nice."

You ducked your face with a small smile, which he himself returned along with an intense stare.

"Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?" he asked, searching your gaze.

"I think you commented on it when we met in the garden," you said, trying not to fall for his charms.

"Then I'll reaffirm it again," his martini breath reached you. "You look beautiful. Plus you're wearing the perfume I gave you."

Discomfort at his words came back to you, and though you avoided showing it your unconscious inspections of your surroundings, avoiding eye contact gave you away.

"Look at me," he demanded.

As you complied with his request, you realised that you didn't know if you would be able to go through with it. The proximity you were having created an intimate situation that was causing numerous memories and feelings to come to your mind and body. For Tony it might have been easy, but for you it wasn't, mostly because you knew that when it was over you were going to go home, to face the reality that he was no longer present. You were not as strong as he was. You hadn't seen him for months, since you broke up, and you knew that it was going to end up hurting you, so you decided to put an end to that dream.

"I think..." you dropped your hand from his shoulder. "I can't go on."

With a calm step you walked away from him, leaving him alone among the other dancing couples, forced a small smile to dedicate it to those people who waved at you as you passed them and headed back outside, finding a place under the night to regain lost strength, praying that Tony wouldn't show up there again. But he wasn't giving up so easily.

"Are you okay?" his figure appeared behind you.

A lump took over your throat as you heard his voice again. You took a deep breath and told yourself to be as nonchalant as possible about the situation.

"Yeah, I just needed to get some air," you commented impassively.

"Okay, I thought you looked a little uncomfortable," he commented, moving to your left side. "You know, it was just a dance."

"Are you kidding me, just a dance?" you said somewhat offended that he barely noticed. "Okay, fine, maybe it's just a dance for you, but it wasn't for me." You had already started to blurt out everything you were thinking, so now you decided not to stop. "These last few months have been horrible, but I was finally starting to take charge of my life completely, and this is a step backwards, I don't want to fall."

"Fall?" Tony cocked his head to one side, clicking his tongue a little. "Do you...do you think these past few months have been easy for me? Because I reckon you think it has been, that I've been 'enjoying the freedom', as you called it."

Tony reminded you of some of the words that came out of your mouth the last time you met at his house, when you went to pick up your things, a fact that embarrassed you greatly.

"I don't think that," you defended yourself by turning away.

"It seems so," his words were firm, as was the step he took towards you. "Listen, I think you know me better than anyone, and just because I don't have the facility you do to show how I feel doesn't mean I'm not affected by things. In case you're interested to know, I haven't left the lab in five months."

The expression on Tony's face had hardened, as had his words.

"I came here with the sole intention of seeing you, of feeling something again," he clenched his jaw.

"And what position does that put me in?" you asked raising your tone as he did and boring your eyes into his. "You come here, you see me, you feel something and you disappear..."

"Who said anything about disappearing?" he frowned lifting his chin.

"Tony, I don't know with what intention you came here tonight or what you expected to happen," you said, feeling more vulnerable, with a tone of sadness, "but what is clear is that we made a decision and no matter how hard it is, we must accept it. It is clear that there are still feelings, at least on my part, but let's put the past behind us," you paused under his watchful gaze. "I'd better get going."

Saying those words and checking the stiffness in Tony's countenance you opted to continue on your way.

"Wait," Tony stopped your steps by grabbing your arm. "You think I can let you go after what you just said?"

"Enjoy your night, Tony."

That's how for the first time you were brave enough to take back the reins of your life, closing the door to the past and opening a window to the future.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark x you #y/n #prompts #drabbles #valentine's prompts #valentine's day #tony stark imagine #imagines #iron man #iron man x reader #marvel fan fiction #fan fiction #fanfic #ff #angst #fluff

94 notes · View notes

imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

The Neighbor

A/N: Gif isn't mine. If you're the creator, please let me know so I can give you the credits.

Pairing: John Wick X Reader

Word count: 2.2K

Requested by: @massive-freaking-fox

{“My new neighbor is simultaneously the scariest and nicest people I’ve met.” But with John Wick and reader? Like the reader is his new neighbor and kinda a slow burn after she gets over being intimidated by him?? Idk I like all things fluffy and that sounds like a good one}

{John Wick Masterlist}

The wind messes with your hair, making a shiver roll down your spine. Pulling your feet up on the small, wooden table you have on the front garden of your house, you can't help but stare at the bigger, larger house beside your own. But it's not the house itself that gets your undivided attention. It's the owner. The man with the weirdest routine you ever knew. You've seen him, messy hair, playing with his dog, but also in an impeccable dark suit, hair slid back. When you see him like that, he's gone for a while. Days, weeks.

The look in his eyes used to scare you. You had the feeling that his stare alone was enough to make people shake like a leaf, surrender everything they own.

You remember the first time you laid eyes on him. Taylor, the only friend you had made back then, since you moved here, asked for your company on a morning walk. She lives down the street, so you joined her when she passed by your place. A few steps and something caught your eye. You saw him moving inside, through the windowpane, and for some reason, you stopped, shamelessly staring. He was facing away, his strong, muscular back everything you could see.

“(Y/N),” Taylor called you. “Oh.” She mumbled once she noticed what you were looking at. “That's Mr. Wick. I don't know the first name. He's not very social.”

The man turned around and you involuntary held your breath. The way his dark hair fell on his face, hiding his eyes made you give a step back.

“Hey,” Taylor called you once more, snapping a finger in front of your face. “I know he's hot, but I can't believe you're already daydreaming.”

“What?” You finally looked away, eyes now focusing on your friend. The feeling you had was far from what Taylor suggested, but it was still unnamed. “I wasn't daydreaming. Let's get moving.” When you started walking again, you couldn't help but give one last look. And you felt like hit by a car when you got him already staring, straight at you.

The memory makes you shiver more than the wind, which gets colder every passing minute. The sun is setting, and soon it'll be dark. But you're still looking at the house, which it's empty. Mr. Wick. John Wick, left more or less a week ago, dressed to impress as usual. Your mind floats back to the day he told you his first name, the day when he didn't make any effort to hide he was interested in you.

The accidental meeting happened a few weeks after the first time you saw him, after a handful of times that you bumped into each other on the sidewalk. He always smiled kindly and greeted you with a good morning or a good evening. But on that particular night, after you left Taylor's house and started making the way back home, a storm broke loose and the sky fell on you. You had been feeling ill all day, but chose not to give much thought about it. But then, under the cold, heavy rain, you had to focus on keeping your legs working. Bracing yourself, you groaned when your foot slipped, making you fall, your arm hitting the ground hard.

“Damn it.” You muttered, the loud noise of a car stopping suddenly getting your attention. The rain clouded your vision as a blur moved towards you, and arms pulled you up, back to your feet.

“Miss (Y/L/N).” He had said. “Are you alright?”

You could only nod, the words caught in your throat because you were aware of how close to his body he was holding you. Mr. Wick stood tall, way taller than you, like a tower. You didn't want to, but the cold was taking over, and your body collided against his, seeking some warmth. “I'm ok.” You lied, looking up and meeting those dark eyes, as dark as the night that surrounded both of you. That time you noticed he was much older than you and the proximity allowed you to feel the muscles under the suit. You couldn't help but feel intimidated, suddenly so small and fragile.

“Come. Let me drive you home.” Mr. Wick guided you to his car, opening the passenger door and helping you in. You were feeling terribly dizzy, so you didn't complain.

“I-I live on the house next to yours.” You said, shaking like a leaf. “On the left.”

“I know.” He answered, giving you a worried look.

Once he stopped by your house, you opened the door and started making the way to the front door, thankful to reach the porch that offered shelter from the rain, but not from the cold. You searched for the keys, but soon enough you remembered you had left them at Taylor's, on her kitchen table. Alongside your phone.

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself, looking over your shoulder, seeing that Mr. Wick was still standing there, in the rain, as if waiting for you to get in.

You didn't quite understand why you felt so scared of him when he had been nothing but gentle to you on every single occasion you happened to meet. But the very sight of him sends a wave of nervousness through your body. Mr. Wick walks, talks, and even breathes like he hides something, a secret, dark and dangerous. Or maybe it was just the cold and the dizziness messing with your head.

“You may go, Mr. Wick. I... I will have to get back to my friend's. I forgot the keys.” You told him, pushing the wet hair away from your face. “And my phone.”

“I won't let you go back there in this weather. You're clearly feeling sick.” Mr. Wick walked over you, reaching out his hand. “Come to my house. I'll make something warm for you to drink and you can use my phone to call your friend.”

Your answer would be no, obviously. But a flash of bright lightning crossed the sky, followed by a rumble of deafening thunder, which, it seems, was loud enough to open up the skies and strengthen the rain, if that was even possible. “I promise I only want to help.” He said, and that made you nod and step forward, taking his hand.

Mr. Wick had an arm around your waist during the short walk to his house. You breathed out, relieved for the warmth when you stepped in. While he disappeared into the house, you seated on the coffee table instead of the couch, since you were soaking wet. He was quick to bring you a towel and a tea, handing you his cellphone. But for some reason, Taylor wouldn't pick up, so you had no choice but to hand Mr. Wick his phone back. It seemed like the whole Universe was against you that night.

“She won't answer.” You said feeling his fingers brushing on yours when he took the phone from your cold, shaking hand. Looking up, you noticed he changed into dry clothes. Jeans a white T-shirt. He looks handsome, as he always does. There must be a reason for him not to have a girlfriend or anyone in his life. There must be a catch, a plot twist somewhere here. Someone looking like Mr. Wick must have a long trail of hearts wanting to belong to him. “I'm sorry, Mr. Wick, for all the trouble I'm causing you.”

“You may call me John.” He said, sitting on the couch before you. You didn't know why, but it came out to you that he moved like a predator, steady and always in full alert. But his voice was kind, low and calming. He knew you were scared of him, of course, he did. Nothing goes unnoticed by him.

“You may call me (Y/N), then.” You muttered, sipping on your tea.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady.” The compliment made you smile, looking down to hide your blushing cheeks. “I can give you dry clothes. Until you get to contact your friend.”

And so he did. Mr. Wick... John... Gave you one of his sweatpants and shirt, and you changed off of your soaking clothes. You felt stupid, ugly, in his baggy clothes, bracing yourself as if trying to disappear as you made your way back to the living room, ignoring how cold the floor was under your bare feet. John's eyes lingered for a while, as you walked over him, taking a seat on the couch, keeping a distance.

“May I... May I ask what do your work with, Mr... John.” You corrected yourself and he smiled. The question only came up because the silence was as intimidating as him. Any kind of conversation would help, you thought.

“I'm retired.” He simply said. “What about you?”

“I'm an office administrator. From a... An office that sells medical equipment.” God, you sounded like an idiot. You felt so small, tiny, compared to him. And ugly, set side by side with him. From this up close, his handsomeness was shocking, breathtaking. The way his eyes were set on you made you shiver, clearing your throat, you tried to push the words out. “I just started though... I just moved here two months ago.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

His question got you by surprise, and you looked up, meeting his intense eyes. “No. I just...” A humorless laugh left your lips, and you pushed the hair away from your face. “I must look so bad in these.” You gestured at yourself, and then to him. “And you're just... More. I mean...”

You froze when you felt his hand on your face, fingertips running across your jaw, leaving a trail of fire. “I think you look beautiful. Even on my baggy clothes.”

You suddenly realized you wanted to kiss him. The sudden change was a surprise, and you were perplexed with yourself. The fear was slowly sinking, opening a new space, which was being filled with something else. Curiosity. A sudden need to know why John was touching you so gently, why he was saying those things. You felt your body moving closer to him, almost as if being pulled involuntary, like a magnet. You wanted to touch him, to know how he's beard would feel under your fingers, but you didn't know if you could.

“Can-can I...” You stuttered, biting your tongue. How was it possible, that your mind worked in such a weird way? That all of a sudden, you wanted him, the man you've been trying to avoid? You were a mess that night, threatening to fall apart right before him.

John took your hand, softly, bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss on your fingers, as soft as silk. You felt his stubble, eyes fixed of the shape of his lips. “You don't have to be so nervous around me, (Y/N),” John said, his voice barely a whisper. “And, if you want, I'd like to take you out on a date.”

“You want to take me out?” You repeated, speaking too fast, trying to understand why in the hell would a man like John wants to go on a date with a girl like you. It didn't make sense, and you had this feeling that trying to understand would only lead to a dead end.

“I do.” You muttered because there was no other possible answer. Another kiss came, this time on your cheek, dangerously close to your lips.

A car approaching drags you away from the warm memory, and you're finally able to avert your eyes from his house. You miss him, and somehow looking at the empty house makes you feel a little better. He did take you out, on the next night. And you have been to several dates by now, too many to count.

“My neighbor is simultaneously the scariest and nicest person I ever met.” You told Taylor on the day after your second date with John Wick. She laughed and you blushed, because on the night before, John kissed you by your front door, for the first time. You had to tiptoe, despite the high heels you were wearing, your arms quick to pull him closer, welcoming his touch.

“Are you in love with him?” She asked, smirking.

“I think I am.” You admitted on a low voice.

John Wick was a patient man. He waited, he worked hard to make you feel comfortable around him. And he succeeded.

Today, you smile to yourself. The intimidation John caused completely replaced by love. The kind of love you never thought you'd feel, the kind you didn't even know existed.

“Sweetheart.” A voice reaches you, carried by the wind. Immediately, you put your feet down and stand up, turning to find John, stepping out of his car.

“My love.” You run into his embrace, arms wrapping around his neck as you tiptoe to kiss him, his soft lips suddenly making the cold leave your skin. “I missed you so much. If I knew you'd come back today I'd cook something nice for you.” Whispering, you don't step away from his embrace.

“That's even better because now I can help you.” His deep, strong voice still sends shivers down your body, but for a very different reason now.

“Let's go then.” Smiling to him, you entangle your fingers on his, following his pace to his house.

The place that once terrified you now feels more like home than your own. As does John. In his arms, you find solace, safety, unending love.

#john wick #john wick x oc #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #imagine john wick #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction

537 notes · View notes